Rebirth
by PrePsychPineappleLover
Summary: "It felt like being born. Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, you open your eyes and there you are. Like someone pressed play in the middle of a movie and I completely missed everything that happened previously." Feeling paranoid and lost, Shawn tries to figure out what had led to his amnesia. But who can you trust when you can't remember anyone? -Complete-
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there lovely readers!**

 **Here is my next multichapter story! :) Be warned, I don't know how quick I'll be with updates for this one 'cause I have to rewrite quite a bit and work life keeps interfering with the time I would rather spend on writing. But I promise you here and now that I will finish this! ;)**

 **Also, thanks to all of you who send me prompts for my Missing Scenes Collection. I'll keep them all in mind and work on them as soon as inspiration strikes me. ;) In fact, the next missing scene moment is almost done, but for now I'll concentrate on this story...**

 **Just so you now, Trout and season 8 never happened and we start this adventure in 2017. So a few years after season 7 ended.**

 **I hope you enjoy...**

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Chapter 1:

It felt like being born.

Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, you open your eyes and there you are.

Well, obviously I wasn't a newborn baby but a full grown human being. But apart from that it was the same. Like someone pressed play in the middle of a movie and I completely missed everything that happened previously. Very confusing.

When I opened my eyes I saw a white, almost empty room. A white blanket covered me and beneath it I saw my own chest rising and falling with every new breath I took. Machines were beeping next to me and my right arm was attached to a tube.

 _Hospital._

This logic thought came to me automatically out of nowhere. Like the first word I ever thought.

 _Hospital._

The word stood there, floating around in my empty brain and I knew that I must be right. Where else could I be? Even though I didn't know how I ended up here.

 _Where am I exactly? Who am I? Why am I here?_

I asked my mind, but it didn't answer. My dumb questions echoed around in the space between my ears. No matter how hard I tried to think about it, there was nothing but gaping, absolute emptiness inside of me.

My body felt funny. Somehow numb, as if I couldn't quite reach it yet. Like I was floating. I tried to move my fingers, bending them and flexing them, but even though they moved like I wanted them to they didn't feel like _my_ fingers yet. I tried something different and let my eyes wander around.

A window was located next to me. I could see a flawless, clear blue sky. _Beautiful,_ I thought, _but that won't help me answering the questions in my head._

 _Is it summer? Where am I? Which day is it? Why can't I remember? Am I alone? Where am I?_

They were getting louder. In my silent room full of beeping machines and nothingness, my brand new thoughts were my only companions. And they were getting impatient very fast. I felt my breathing pick up.

 _Where am I? Please, somebody tell me! I'm scared! Holy shit,_ **who** _the hell am I?!_

My mouth hung open as I tried very hard not to hyperventilate. I moved my head in the opposite direction. Too fast. My sight blurred… then it cleared.

And that's when I saw her.

Another person. A human being like me. She was sleeping, curled up on the bed next to mine. She had beautiful, long blonde hair, framing her face like a celestial glow. She bedded her head on her folded hands, legs tucked up. Her features were scrunched up like she was having a bad dream, but, even so, I could see that she was stunning. Almost like an angel. _Hey, is this heaven? Am I dead?_ She wore normal clothes, no hospital gown. No angel wings. _So she is human after all. But_ s _he's not a patient. What is she doing here?_

I started an attempt to talk to her, but my mouth was dry, my throat raspy and unused. Somehow I was afraid of what she would say. _Could she even answer the questions I have? Maybe she's as confused as I am. Would she talk to me? Who is she?_ Curiosity eventually won over my anxiety and I tried again to get my throat to work. "H-Hey." I swallowed. "…'cuse me, Miss."

At that she suddenly opened her eyes, staring straight ahead as if to decide for a second if she was awake or still dreaming. But then she lifted her head and her eyes widened. In a flash she jumped out of the bed and hurried over to me.

"Oh, my god, Shawn!" she exclaimed, immediately taking my limp hands and squeezing them tightly.

I couldn't hide my surprise and obvious discomfort at the stranger's sudden closeness and withdrew my hands quickly. I stared at her like a deer at headlights. She stared back, apparently as shocked as I was although for a different reason, because she tried to grab for my hands again. I didn't know what to say, so I just leaned back with a nervous stutter.

First, she looked truly hurt, then confused and finally, upon realizing my fright, she looked scared as well. "Shawn, I'm here…" She spoke calmly and slowly as if soothing a child. "Everything's fine, you don't have to be scared."

I couldn't hear her. My mind stuck on the name she used.

 _Shawn. She called me Shawn. Is that me?_

She tried to get closer to me again, but grew visibly desperate. Feeling returned into my limbs and I tensed when she tried to lay her hand upon my arm. She knew me and I didn't know her.

"Shawn, you… you don't recognize me, do you?" she whispered as it dawned on her. Her eyes were wide and scared, begging me not to say what she already knew. As I slowly shook my head, one lonely tear rolled out of crystal blue eyes and over her pale cheek. Suddenly, I was sure that no one could ever look sadder than her in this moment.

She spoke with all control she could muster, "It's me, Juliet…"

 _Nothing._

"Jules." she added.

 _Jules._

Now, that name triggered… _something_ in my empty brain. It rattled at firmly closed doors to my memories, but I couldn't open those doors. The name bounced back, leaving behind an indefinable feeling of warmness. It was soothing for a moment, but then I saw her sad eyes again and it made me afraid.

 _She cries. She cries because I can't remember her. I mean something to her. I didn't want her to cry, but how can I stop it?_

"I'm sorry." I said feebly. Her eyes filled up with new tears and she stepped back. _No, if she leaves I'm alone again. I don't want to be alone._ "I'm sorry, I can't." I said again, desperation dripping from every helpless word I formed. I felt broken. Incomplete. I'm broken and she's not. She can remember things that I can't, but that I should.

Trembling, I extended my arms towards her. She pressed her hands in front of her mouth, sobbing heartbreakingly. "No, please, don't cry." I whispered, but I didn't think that she could hear me. She pressed a little red button, her hands shaking like crazy as she repeated over and over again, "Oh, god. Oh, please, no."

Anxiety skyrocketed again. I couldn't speak. We stared at each other without really realizing how much our respective sadness and fear was affecting us.

Suddenly, the door opened to the room that was my world until now and another woman in a white lab coat entered. She had reddish-brown hair, glasses and a surprised look on her face when she saw me.

"Oh, Mr. Spencer. You're awake."

 _Mr. Spencer? Who the hell is Mr. Spencer? Is that me too? Why does everyone know me?_ Before the female doctor could come over to me, the first woman I broke spoke up.

"He doesn't remember me. He doesn't know who I am."

She was on the verge of being hysterical, but still managed to keep her voice down with overpowering force and seriousness. Her strangled sounding sobs gave her away and the doctor moved to sooth her instead of me.

"Calm down. Now, breathe…" she told her and I tried to do likewise.

 _Oh god, I think I'm losing my mind… oh, wait, that already happened._ Maybe I would've laughed at that, hadn't the doctor talked on.

"Mrs. Spencer, we have warned you that this could happen after a head injury like this…"

The air got sucked out of my lungs. _Did she just say Mrs. Spencer? I'm married?!_ Reflexively, I lifted my hands and saw a golden wedding band adorning my left ring finger. _Oh, god, it's true! And I can't remember her. Of course that made her cry._

Intensely, I tried to follow the doctor's words, hoping that it kept me distracted from the apparent truth I just found out.

"It's not uncommon to suffer from amnesia with accidents that involve motorcycles…"

A wave of new questions swelled as I let my shaking hand travel to my head to come in contact with soft gauze.

 _Head injury! What happened? She said motorcycle. Do I own a motorcycle!? And somebody please tell me what was amnesia again!?_

I felt my heart thumping in my chest. Too much information. The doctor still tried to calm the crying woman. The crying woman who was my wife. The wife I couldn't remember.

 _Hospital. I_ _'m broken. Amnesia means memory loss. I can't remember anything of my life._

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and my hands were shaking. I opened my mouth to speak with a voice still raspy and strange to my ears.

"What's going on? I'm not… she can't be…" I stared at the blonde woman again and saw in her eyes that she realized my full blown panic attack before the doctor or I did. "I would know! I can't just forget everything! That's not right. I don't… I don't believe you!"

The doctor came closer, trying her calming voice again, but I couldn't hear her. She wanted to touch me, but I flinched back like as if burned from fire. My voice rose, sentences were incomplete. Loud. Panicked. "Don't touch me! This is crazy! I want out! Let me…" The doctor called for help when I tried to stand up. My sight swam, blurred. My heart pumped in my ears. The room was swarmed with more doctors. They grabbed me, holding me still. There was a needle. Panic increased. _"_ _No! No needles!"_ I yelled as loud as I could.

" _Stop, wait!"_ The blonde's voice boomed over the chaos in the room, making everyone pause for a second. "He has a fear of pointy objects!"

"Have not!" I heard myself say before I could hold it back. Then I slowed my struggle as I realized who had spoken. The blonde woman had stepped forward, no traces of fear on her face. She balled her fists and ground her teeth while she was intimidatingly staring at the doctors. Almost as if she was ready to defend me by pulling every one of them back from me with force.

"If you calm down we don't have to use this needle, do you understand?" the red-haired doctor said to me.

Still breathing hard, I looked from her serious eyes, to the needle which involuntary spiked up my fear and back to the woman they called Mrs. Spencer.

 _What just happened? She knew I'm afraid. How could she know?_

I struggled to get my breathing under control. Tension in the room dropped and the other doctors, who had grabbed me, carefully loosened their hold until I slowly nodded at them and they let go.

"I'm sorry. We didn't know about your phobia." the doctor said.

"Well, that makes two of us." I answered sarcastically. It made her chuckle lightly, but I didn't feel like laughing. Sulking, I crossed my arms until she sensed my mood.

"I know this must be very confusing for you. Reactions like this are the reason why we normally don't allow anyone in the room with amnesia patients." She suddenly spoke to the blonde woman again with a hint of accusation. "But she insisted."

Me and the blonde looked at each other again. For the first time I noticed the matching ring on her finger as she nervously massaged her hands. She tried to smile at me encouragingly, but I couldn't bring myself to respond. I didn't know why she was smiling. Her smile faded.

The doctor continued. "I'm Dr. Martin and I'm going to ask you a few questions now to check how much you can remember, okay?"

I nodded, thinking, _I can answer that right away, lady. Nothing! I remember absolutely nothing! And it's freaking scary._

"Do you know your name?"

 _Okay, I might not remember, but I'm not stupid. I heard what they had called me._ "S-Shawn." I said with a light insecure shiver. "Shawn Spencer." I answered with more fake confidence and waited for my brain to fill me up with another feeling. Like when I thought about the name 'Jules'. But there was no warmness, no feeling. Nothing moved inside of me.

Dr. Martin glanced at… _Jules_. I forced myself to give her a name and no longer call her 'the blonde woman'. Obviously, Dr. Martin blamed her for my knowledge and she continued to write something on a clipboard.

"Do you know where you are, Mr. Spencer?"

I looked around to make sure. "Uhm… a hospital."

"Okay, good. Can you tell me the city you're living in?"

I glanced outside the window again where the blue sky gave nothing away and seemed to mock me with its blankness. I shook my head.

"What month is it? What year?" She kept asking questions as I closed my eyes and just shook my head, not caring that my world started spinning. I heard someone suppressing a sob and reopened my eyes. Dr. Martin took notes on her clipboard. Jules looked totally distraught and lost. I felt bad for her. I knew that I was to blame for her sadness. _My not knowing anything makes her sad. I need to know something._

"I can give you the time, though." I blurted out, without thinking. "It's 12:57 p.m."

Both women stared at me. Dr. Martin looked around, realizing that there wasn't a clock in the room. She pulled out her phone from her pocket, reading the display. Then she gazed at me in awe as if I was psychic. The woman named Jules straightened up. Hope flared up behind her eyes and I figured that this was better than sadness.

"How did you know that?" Dr. Martin asked.

I opened my mouth, but stopped at the last second before the words could come tumbling out. I had the perfect speech sitting on the tip of my tongue. About how I seemingly adopted paranormal abilities after the amnesia. I didn't know where it came from. It was like the warmness I felt before. A reflex from my former, forgotten life that left me wondering. But it got weirder when Jules proved to have the same powers.

"Tell the truth, Shawn." she said warningly.

I stuttered, completely flabbergasted by the fact that she knew I was about to lie. Her eyes widened when she obviously realized the same. "I, uhm, I… don't really know how…" I said, listening into my brain for answers. This time it granted me a memory. My first pin sharp memory.

 _The door opened. Dr. Martin comes in. She stepped aside before the door closes again._ _"_ _Oh, Mr. Spencer. You're awake." There's a clock in the hallway. Red, digital numbers. 12:53. Dr. Martin calls for help. More doctors come in. The clock again. 12:55._

"I saw the digital clock in the hallway when you came in." I finally answered truthfully. "I just added a few more minutes. And, well, it's daytime not night. So p.m." I added, pointing vaguely to the window's direction.

"Fascinating." said the doctor, gawking at me like at a lab rat.

"He could do this before." Jules babbled, suddenly very excited. "You see, he's still there, I knew it!"

I didn't understand what she meant by that even though it seemed to be important. Dr. Martin told her that it's still unlikely that I regain all of my memories just yet and that she wanted to test my brain activities as soon as possible. Apparently, it's a miracle that I even woke up.

I also didn't really care about all the other things she said. I was busy thinking about what I just did. What I saw and remembered in perfect clarity in my head. I was almost absolutely positive that I didn't consciously _see_ the clock when the door opened. I was focused on the crying woman and the fear about why she was crying and then I zoomed in on the doctor's face. And still I remembered the clock, barely visible for less than a second on the left side behind her head.

 _That's not normal, is it? As if I truly had super powers. But Jules said I did that before._

Right now, she and doctor were arguing about whether or not my true self was still there. I frowned in annoyance as a paranoid thought formed in my head. _How should I know what is my true self? They know me and I don't. They could tell me anything they want me to believe and I wouldn't even notice. It's like a rebirth,_ I thought again. And it was a frightful thought.

"It would be best if you would leave your husband alone so he can rest until tomorrow…" Dr. Martin just said but was interrupted immediately.

"No, no. I'm staying with him! I can't leave." Jules said.

"When you speak to him you could falsify the test results and we can't identify which memories are his own and which ones you have told him."

Jules stubbornly shook her head. "No, I have to…"

"Hey!" I cut them both off, defensively crossing my arms in front of my chest. "If you would ask the _patient_ then he would say that he wants to be alone. I have… a lot… a lot to process."

The beautiful blonde looked at me as if I had betrayed her in the worst way possible. "But, Shawn…"

 _Betrayal, hurt, sadness, shock._

I couldn't bear it. All those feelings. Big, important feelings all directed at me. I couldn't give her anything back. I don't feel anything when I think about her.

 _Warmness._

It spread just to prove to me that I was wrong, but I shook it off. "Please, just go…"

The room fell silent. I looked out the window so I didn't have to see her hurt face anymore. It was best for her, wasn't it? All I did was make her cry. I would disappoint her, sadden her even more because I'm broken. I couldn't give her the feelings she expects me to have. I wasn't that husband she knew. Not anymore. Not yet. I didn't even know what I would prefer.

"Alright, Shawn. I'll go." She sniffled. "But I won't give up on us, you hear me?"

 _That's what frightens me._ I felt pressure radiating from her, whether she did it on purpose or not. I got the feeling that she would never give up. _And what if that old_ me _, the one I didn't know anymore, was gone forever? Locked inside of me and I would never again able to feel what she felt? Would she still pressure me into being the man she wanted me to be? Am I someone else completely now? Do I want to feel again or would it be easier to take the chance to start anew? Wouldn't my new life be easier that way? Free from any kind of pressure?_

The door closed. I was alone with my questions.

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 **Please be kind and leave a review on your way out... ;)  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reading and following! This could use some more reviews don't you think? ;)**

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Chapter 2:

At some point after they left, I must've fallen asleep. Actually, it was more like a blurry, uneasy and fitful span of unconsciousness in which my mind recollected everything it knew so far. Like a recap of the first episode of my new life. Nevermind the previous season. It got canceled and this was a remake. _I hate remakes._

 _My name is Shawn Spencer. I'm married. My wife is called Jules and she's truly beautiful. I was in a motorcycle accident and now I'm in hospital with diagnosed amnesia. I can do weird mind tricks and remember stuff without consciously seeing it. My doctor's name is Dr. Martin and I don't really like her. Oh, and apparently I have a fear of needles._

After remembering the giant needle I woke up with a start, hectically looking around to see if there's a doctor who enjoys injections hiding behind the curtains. I got lucky. There was nobody.

But I could tell, after examining my room a bit closer that somebody had been here. There was a small, square table in one corner of the room. On its surface laid a newspaper. I was sure – doing my mind trick – that it wasn't there when I woke up for the first time. I cursed the person who decided that leaving the newspaper this far away from me was a good idea and I determined that my new quest was to get up and read it. I may find out a bit more about myself or my whereabouts.

Carefully, I worked myself up into a sitting position. The room swayed as I did so and I squeezed my eyes shut. I breathed deeply through my nose, waiting for the nausea to subdue and then I threw the blanket back. At first glance it seemed that I had no other injuries except for my empty brain and a splitting headache. _Okay, so I'm good to go._

I set my naked feet onto the cold floor and shivered. The thin tube in my arm restrained me from standing up so I pulled it out carefully. It felt weird, but at least I didn't faint. Whatever was piped into my body didn't seem to be necessary for survival. However, standing up was more painful than I thought. I gritted my teeth to bit back a surprised yelp when I shifted my weight onto my left knee. _I must have hurt it during the accident,_ I concluded wisely, but, of course, that didn't stop me from trying to walk.

Slowly and carefully I hobbled along, supporting myself on the bed until I swayed freely in the middle of the room. I have to admit there was a funny feeling in my stomach as I stood there while the room was spinning around me, telling me that this was a stupid idea, but I didn't give up. I grabbed hold of the back of the chair and dragged my feet along. Panting, I supported myself on the desk, forcing the black spots to go away. Then I finally reached for the newspaper. _Ha, jackpot! Take that left knee!_ I read the head of the paper.

 _Santa Barbara Mirror. Friday, 13_ _th_ _of October 2017._

 _Oh, this is just great. I wonder if my old self is superstitious._ At least now I've got a date and a city. Well, it definitely could have been worse than a coastal city in California.

Strangely, I found that I couldn't take my eyes of the city's name written on the first page. Like a swirl I got sucked in by the letters and suddenly, my brain felt like someone would poke a thousand needles into it and I moaned in pain. Through dizziness I saw a moving picture. I couldn't tell if it was really there or just in my mind.

 _Santa Barbara. A road sign:_ _"_ _You're leaving Santa Barbara". The roar of an engine. Me, sitting on a motorcycle. Dad._

I slumped against the table, digging my nails into it just in time before I could fall over. The moving picture surprised me. It was accompanied by loud sounds and a new sensation I identified as… _uncomfortableness._ Quite in contrary to the warm, soothing feeling I associated with the name 'Jules', this was definitely something I didn't like.

 _So I don't like the city I live in? Or was there more to it? I remembered dad. Not the face, just the word '_ _dad_ _'. Did I leave this city before? To get away from '_ _dad_ _'_ _?_

Sullenly, I forced myself to recreate the picture in my head, but that wasn't possible without also bringing back the splitting pain. I groaned, putting a hand to my head. In return I wasn't steady enough to stand anymore. The room circled once again and I was sure I would fall.

"Mr. Spencer, what are you doing out of bed?! Here, let me help you."

A strong arm grabbed me and kept me from kissing the floor. The fog cleared and I was met with a tiny, brown-eyed nurse with an enormous amount of strength in her upper arms. She seemed to be at least two heads shorter than me, but she safely managed to steer me towards my bed again.

"No, I'm okay." I said. "I don't want to lie down anymore."

"You shouldn't overexert yourself, Mr. Spencer. You were unconscious for quite a while and your body has to get used to the movements again." the nurse said.

"But I'm bored." I whined pathetically while the nurse tucked me in.

She smiled in amusement. "When you were unconscious, your wife told me that she wasn't used to you being so still. She said once you woke up you would never stop moving again."

The nurse laughed, thinking that she cheered me up with her little story. When she noticed that I just looked at her blankly, I faked a smile. "Funny." I deadpanned. The nurse cleared her throat, saying that I just had to push the button if I needed anything and rushed out of the room.

 _I made her feel uncomfortable,_ I realized. _But she did the same to me. Now I know that I forgot another thing about me. Obviously, I'm a jittery pain in the neck. It must be a joy for the people around me._

I noticed that until now I almost only learned negative things about me. I'm weird, afraid of needles, nervous and I may or may not have some unresolved daddy issues. If I'm truly honest with myself, I could say that didn't like me very much. It only added to my ever growing feeling of uncomfortableness, being stuck in this situation.

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The next morning I was due for the brain tests Dr. Martin announced. It consisted of two parts. First, I had to lie down in a metal tube – I believe it's called an MRI – and Dr. Martin looked into my brain to determine what was broken. At least I thought so, because I didn't understand a word she said when she explained to me what she was doing.

 _So, I definitely wasn't a medical scientist in my forgotten life. Hey, that's an interesting question, by the way. What had I done for a living?_

"Mr. Spencer, please stay absolutely still." Dr. Martin's stern voice reminded me through a speaker. It wasn't the first time she reprimanded me.

"Sorry. Forgot." I replied, smirking just slightly at the irony. I tried to concentrate, but quickly felt my mind drifting off again and I couldn't do anything to stop it.

 _What could have been my occupation with everything I knew about me so far? I'm fairly certain that I couldn't stand a dull job. Maybe I'm a superhero. The one who sees everything!_ I smiled again, enjoying my thought. At least my job could be something pleasant.

"Mr. Spencer—"

"Stay still, yeah, yeah, I know." I muttered, rolling my eyes.

The second part of the test was more exciting. I got to see a bunch of pictures, while having to wear a ridiculous cap with at least a dozen wires hanging off of it. An attached medical device measured my brain waves, Dr. Martin explained to me. My task was to tell her the first thing that came to my mind when looking at the pictures.

At first I assumed she was just showing me random things, places or people and I named each of them without giving it too much thought. It wasn't until, suddenly, there was a picture of Jules mixed with the others, that I realized that the pictures were most likely anything but random. Dr. Martin wanted to see if I could recognize my old life.

My results were devastating. I was sure of it. She didn't tell me, but I could see it in the way her brows knitted together in concentration.

 _Oh, god. I'll_ _never remember! I'll stay broken. I will never be the same man again. I wonder how Jules will react… I don't want to see her cry again. She should just leave me._

I got wheeled back into my room and, of course, the woman named Jules was already there, waiting for me. She was nervously wringing her hands and chewing on her lower lip, waiting for the outcome of my tests. The nurse, who helped me into my bed, was the same one as yesterday. She said Dr. Martin will analyze the test results and come back to me later. Jules thanked her and the nurse left the room with a smile.

 _And it got awkward._

As soon as the door closed, the mood of the room changed. Nervously, I glanced at Jules, glanced at her wedding band and back into her face, trying to figure out if I should say something. She seemed to be as insecure as I was, apparently fighting an inner battle whether or not she should step closer to me.

She chose proximity while I was deciding for distance.

"Shawn, no matter what the test says we're in this together, okay?"

I nodded curtly.

"I'm sure we can work something out. We always do. You don't have to worry."

I nodded again.

"Shawn…" Her tone was desperate and she reached for my hand. I tensed. "Please, say something!"

"I-I…" I stammered, eyes fixed on her hand touching mine. It wasn't that I didn't like the way she tried to soothe me, but the feelings that she was sending at the same time threw me off. She was radiating great love, worry and care and I struggled with returning these feelings. I didn't have them.

"I don't know what you want to hear." I finally answered, shying away from her touch. My hands were shaking and I couldn't bring myself to look into her eyes. Her disappointment would make me feel like a first class asshole. Although, the feeling of insecurity mixed with panic could hardly be topped.

"I'm... I'm sorry." she murmured, startled, lifting her hands in defeat and taking one step backwards. "I know this must be hard for you, especially you since you usually…"

She fell silent, obviously realizing that whatever she was referring to, I couldn't remember. Panic rose. _She would never get used to this. I'm no longer the man she loved. I'm broken._

"Uhm, I mean… I can understand. I'm on the edge myself. The last weeks were crazy. We were all worried about you. The doctors suggested that we shouldn't… overwhelm you, so the others aren't going to come until you think you're… ready…"

 _Weeks?! The others?! Who are 'the others'_ _?_ My heart drummed in my chest. _More people. More people I don't know. People with expectations. People who know me._ I felt like I would suffocate in my small hospital prison cell. And Jules was the guard dog who wouldn't let me out. Who wouldn't give up.

She threw a quick glance at the heart rate monitor. "Oh, god, I'm scaring you. I'm so stupid. I always say stupid things when I'm nervous. I'm sorry."

I heard her say through the rushing in my ears. "No…" I forced myself to answer. "It's me, I'm..." _broken,_ I thought, but I didn't say it.

"No, it's not you. The doctors were right. I put too much pressure on you. I'm sorry." Jules said.

"Stop apologizing." I told her, swallowing down my panic so I could talk. She was quiet while I was calming my breath and I couldn't help but feel relieved that she had stopped talking or trying to touch me. It made me realize something.

"You know what, maybe you're right." I said. "It's too much, I… I can't think straight, knowing that there is always someone around me, who expects me to react in a certain way." She breathed in to say something, but I stopped her. "I think I need some time alone. Completely alone, I mean. Just for a few hours I don't want to be observed… by anyone. I don't want to think about all the people who are waiting for me to get normal again, okay? I don't know if I can." I paused, finally raising my head to look at her. "Please." I whispered meekly. "Just give me a few hours."

Her blue eyes were glistering with tears, but she didn't let them fall. Pressing her lips together, she forced herself to nod in agreement. "Okay, Shawn. You're right. I'll give you time to process all of this." She grabbed her bag from where it was lying on the chair next to her and stepped backwards towards the door. Her eyes never left mine as she said, "I'm here for you when you're ready, okay?"

Again, I nodded my head yes. "Okay." I confirmed her.

With a smile ever so slightly, but nevertheless filled up with undying hope, she left me.

She left, but the panic stayed. The things she accidentally said to me swirled in my head. There were more people than her waiting for me. I was unconscious for weeks. She won't give up, turning me back into the man she knew.

 _And what if I don't want to be that man?_

I felt the urge to leave. It was an itching and impatient feeling inside of me, growing and growing, constantly nudging me, asking _'What are you waiting for? Get out while you still can!'_ If I stay, I had to reconnect with strangers, get to know me and my whole life again and meet expectations that I'm not sure I want to meet. I felt trapped.

Maybe it was rash and stupid. Maybe I was afraid. But nobody has to know that. I'll get along fine on my own. I'll figure out a way. An easy way.

I had already pushed my covers away and sat upright in bed, before I realized what I was doing. Just then the brown-eyed nurse returned.

"Mr. Spencer, I saw your wife leaving and… what do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing. I just want to take a shower." I lied quickly and easily.

"Oh, okay." she said, helping me to hobble over to the adjoined bathroom. "Do you need help?"

"No… no, I think I'm fine." I said and this was actually the truth. I already felt fitter and less unsteady on my legs compared to yesterday. With every passing minute I was getting surer about my plan.

"Okay. Well, you know what you have to do if you need anything." she said.

"Yeah, thanks." I smiled at her as long as she was inside of the room. Then the smile faded. _Okay, this settles it. I'm feeling better, so I'm leaving… after taking a shower._

I smelled of sickness and disinfectant and would feel even more like a newborn after a hot shower. When I stepped into the bathroom I spotted a mirror in the corner of my eye. I stood still, squinting to the left, realizing that up until now I had no idea what I looked like. I couldn't remember my own face.

I squinted again and was able to make out a blurry figure, making me insanely curious. _Who am I? Isn't that the most important question I should ask myself?_

I breathed in and out a few times to brace myself for the stabbing headache that may await me. Even though I only recognized Jules during the brain test, I was able to trigger one memory by looking at the newspaper. It could be very likely that I would trigger new memories while looking at myself, right?

I turned around.

A pair of attentive, green eyes immediately stared right back at me, looking kind of spooked and confused.

 _No pain. No flashes of memory._

I stared into eyes I couldn't remember having seen before, but were still my own. _Okay, so I don't even recognize myself. That's… unsettling._ There was something about my eyes though. I couldn't place it, but I instantly felt that nothing escaped them. _Back to my superhero thesis,_ I thought.

I observed the rest of my face. My nose was slightly bigger than absolutely necessary and I could tell by the dark stubble on my cheeks that my hair color was brown. I couldn't see my hair due to a bandage around me head and wondered briefly how I should keep the gauze from getting wet. I viewed myself from all sides, coming to the conclusion that it could be way worse. _Yep, I can live with a face like that._

My body was a whole different story. I noticed it while showering. I wasn't overweight, but I also wasn't ripped. Just average, I guess. What bothered me were the scars.

I have a pretty long one in the middle of my chest, a smaller one left to my belly button and a somewhat round scar near my left shoulder. _Too many scars for the body of a… I don't know, maybe thirty-something man_ , I thought. Scars never held any good memories to them. One reason more why I should never find out their origin. _Maybe I got into trouble?_ _Maybe I'm a shady man?_

I shook my head. I didn't want to think about what I may or may not have been in my former life. That part is over now! I could start a new life, be someone else and live like I wanted to live. _It sounds so compelling._

After showering, I found some normal street clothes in a drawer and also a wallet that apparently belonged to me. I decided that I would just take the money with me – which wasn't very much – and leave the ID card. _I don't need an ID. I'm not that person anymore,_ I convinced myself.

I left my room slowly, hoping that I didn't look as suspicious as I really felt. Without making eye contact and risking to be recognized by people that I cannot recognize, I walked through the hallways. Well, actually I was limping, but I kept it to a minimum so nobody would look at me twice. In the lobby, I stole a baseball cap from an empty seat to cover the bandage around my head. I could already see outside and barely managed to keep the ridiculous grin from my face. Only a few meters 'til freedom… and then finally…

I left the hospital and stepped outside into the world.

* * *

 **Please review! It would make me soo happy! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, thanks again for reading, following and reviewing! Thank you cosette141 as always for your awesome beta-reading-work! :D  
**

 **I hope you all enjoy this next chapter...**

* * *

Chapter 3:

I inhaled deeply. The smell of salt water seemed familiar to me. _Fresh. Warm._

I suddenly caught the glimpse of a memory.

 _Me, dressed in a tux. The sun on my skin. Looking upwards into the sky, squinting at the sun while seagulls_ _were screaming._

The memory ended abruptly when I unconsciously lifted my head to relive that moment in my mind and the sun not only warmed my skin but burned into it, penetrating right into my brain where it triggered a flash of blinding pain. Too bright. I shielded my eyes from the light and groaned.

People around me stopped and asked me if I was okay. "I'm fine." I replied quickly and forced my legs to move. _Don_ _'t stop now or they'll catch you again._

Limping along the road, I stopped at a taxi stand and let myself fall on the dark, cool backseat of one of the cabs. I wiped my brow, realizing that I was sweating already and was not more than hundred meters away from the hospital entrance. _Oh yeah, this will be fun._

"Hey, mister. Where are you heading?" the taxi driver asked me, not at all bothered by my disheveled state.

"Uhm, I'm not sure." I answered. "Is there something like a bus station?" If I wanted to leave town, the money I took with me wouldn't be enough for anything else than a bus ride.

"Sure. You're not from here, huh?"

"You could say it like that." I replied.

The cab driver stopped at a bus station at the edge of town and needed to wake me because I had been drifting off to sleep as soon as my head slumped against the window shield. I struggled out of the cab with my left knee stinging violently every time I dared to support my full weight on it and looked around between the huge vehicles, feeling lost.

I had no idea where I should go and truth be told there was a small, quiet voice inside of me asking if I had completely lost my mind. _"_ _This is a stupid idea, man. On what should you live if you barely even have enough money to pay the taxi driver?"_

Another edgy, nervous voice answered, _"_ _Think about what awaits you if you stay. Do you really want to have strange people tell you who you are? You could be someone new! Away from everyone's expectations."_

 _Great,_ I thought, _now I'm turning schizophrenic._

It was most likely pure stubbornness that made me ignore the sensible voice and instead study the bus schedules.

 _Okay, let's see… how about L.A.? Not far enough… Las Vegas? Haha, in your dreams! …San Francisco? Hmm, why not… or maybe even further away…_

Out of curiosity, I looked for the longest tour and my eyes landed on Vancouver. I couldn't afford the ride, but again there was a strange sensation that left me unable to avert my eyes from the city's name. I knew what overcame me before I felt the pain.

 _Vancouver. There is a man with awesome blonde hair, a mustache and a canny smile. A bridge overlooking the sea. And Jules. She looks at me with sad, disappointed eyes. I feel rejection._

I held both hands to my head to keep it from bursting. Memories hurt. Physically and emotionally. The nauseous pain in my brain forced me to my knees. I kept my eyes squeezed shut and didn't know anymore what was up and what was down.

"Hey, man, are you feeling alright?"

The voice startled me directly next to my ear. It sucked me out of my whirl of painful remembrance and I opened my eyes. A man hovered over me. The way he looked at me seemed intimidating, but it could simply be my view looking upwards to him. He was Latino with slick black combed-back hair and a handkerchief covering most of a tattoo on his neck. He crossed his arms over his bulky chest and still stared down at me suspiciously and I realized that I hadn't answered him yet.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a headache." I said through clenched teeth, repressing the pictures still swirling in my head so the pain would finally stop.

"Here, take my hand." the Latino said and helped me to my feet.

I swayed and there was a throbbing behind my eyes that made it hard for me to focus on anything. I tried to look into the man's dark eyes, noticing that his lips moved, but his voice didn't quite reach my ears. Slurred noises mixed with the sounds of the bus station and suddenly the man reached out for me again as I stumbled backwards against the wall with the bus map on it.

"Oye, amigo!" the Latino exclaimed. "I don't think this is just a headache."

I looked into his face again. Something about it left me puzzled. Like I saw it before. I just couldn't place where. "Do I know you?" I asked, slurring my speech a bit.

He paused. Something in his demeanor changed. His strong muscles tensed and he glanced at me with caution. Instead of answering he asked a question himself, "Do you remember?"

That's when I knew that I obviously should. But I couldn't. _Not this again. Why can't I get away from my past?_ I tried to escape his supporting grip on my arm. "I don' know. I need to go. I don' know you." He didn't try to grab me with force, but he followed me when I stumbled backwards again. Standing on my feet slowly turned into a mighty chore that I wouldn't be able to keep up for long. He backed me into a corner. I felt my heart beating in my chest and sweat trickled down my back. The Latino's presence made me feel uneasy. "Get away from me. I won' go back to t' hospital."

"Easy there, pal. I won't take you to the hospital." His warm Spanish accent washed over me in an attempt to calm me.

"You won't?" I asked in surprise. It was getting harder for me to breath. Desperately I tried to hold onto something to keep me upright. My weak knees buckled.

"Not if you don't want to." he promised. "I'll take you to our hideout."

" _Our_ hideout?" I stressed, confusion began to overlap the panic. The throbbing behind my eyes intensified and black spots danced in front of my view.

"Si, after all… you're one of us, Shawn."

My breath hitched in my chest as I willed the spots to go away. My knee stung, my head was spinning and I felt nauseous, cold and hot at the same time. When I finally collapsed I was able to form one last thought…

 _One of whom?_

* * *

Cold water dripped down along my neck. It was dark when I opened my eyes. Something soft and wet lay over my face. _A cold washcloth_ , I realized. Muffled voices were reaching my ears.

"This is bullshit. How could you know that he really didn't recognize you?" one voice hissed.

"He didn't. I'm telling you." the other voice whispered in a Spanish accent. "He's good. When _they_ make him remember we're screwed. He'll find us again."

"It's still risky."

"Now we have him. It's our best chance."

I lifted my hand to remove the washcloth from my face. The endings were dripping water into my ears, so I could barely follow what the voices were saying. _What's risky? What they are talking about?_ As soon as I lifted the cloth, light pierced my eyes and I groaned.

"Shh, he's waking up."

The shuffling of feet. A hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, Shawn."

Cautiously, I pried my eyes open. Blurred vision. A face and another shadowy figure behind him. I blinked once more. Confused at first, but then I recognized him. The Latino who helped me at the bus station. _He knows my name._

I looked around. My surroundings were rather dark. I was lying on a worn and dirty mattress. The walls were gray and bare, only a narrow, small window too high above the floor to look outside granted some daylight. A solid metal door led outside to a bigger room or hall from where cold, artificial light flooded into my smaller room.

My gaze met with another tall, wiry man, standing by the door. His dark hair fell over his forehead and he crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

"Where did you bring me?" I still slurred my speech a bit. "Who are you?"

The two men exchanged a glance then the Latino answered. "You're safe here. You were on the run, right? Well, no one's going to find you here."

I blinked at him slowly and perplexed. _On the run? Me? From whom? Where is here?_ "Uhm, okay… I guess I was running away from… something…"

 _The bus station. A painful memory. Vancouver. Jules. Rejection._

I remembered again. I was running from myself. But that still didn't explain why I was in this dark and filthy room. I looked back into the Latino's eyes. "Why are you helping me?"

"'Cause we're a _team_ , hombre." He emphasized, motioning a circle including him, the quiet white guy and me. I didn't recognize them at all and upon noticing my skepticism, he introduced himself. "I'm Marco and that's Jason."

Still didn't ring any bells. _Of course not, I remember no one. That's why I'm running._ Slowly, my mind caught up with my current situation. "A team? W-What do we do?" I asked, still not at all convinced.

Marco reached down to the floor and handed me a water bottle, standing next to the mattress. I took a few deep and needy gulps. Marco watched me and waited until I set the bottle back down.

"Y'know, we're kind of a… let's say import/export firm. There were more of us, but they got caught."

"Why? What are you… what are _we_ selling?" I corrected my sentence. Even though I'm not sure if I should believe him, there was a difference talking to Marco compared to the last encounter with a human being. Jules.

The warmness spread again.

Again I ignored it.

There were no feelings, no pressure and no mixed signals when talking to Marco. It was relieving. It felt good. Like the first real conversation. He was straightforward and I felt like I had more control over what was said. So I listened.

"We're selling drugs. Plain and simple." the quiet guy, Jason, spoke up nonchalantly. He raised his chin, looking at me challenging. Almost as if he dared me to protest, to not believe him.

I swallowed, nodding my head slowly as his words sunk in. _Drugs are illegal as far as I know. Dealing with them is a crime. So, am I a bad person? Am I shady?_ I remembered the scars on my body and Jules' tears. _I'm broken. So it must be true. I'm bad and broken. It fits._

"What happened to the rest of us? And how did I end up in hospital… with a wife!?" I stressed. "It makes no sense." My head started throbbing again and I wished I could stop doubting and questioning and just take my new life as it is. _It would be easier,_ a voice hissed inside of me.

Marco and Jason exchanged a look again then Marco began thoughtfully. "Uhm, well… it was pure luck that I found you again. I wanted to leave town quickly, too. Too dangerous staying here. But then I saw you and our chances to remain living in freedom increased. You're an important member of the group. You got skills."

 _Mind tricks,_ I remembered, simultaneously wondering how I could use this gift for drug operations.

"There had been a raid." Marco continued. "The police surprised us and arrested seven of our people. Jason, you and I escaped—"

"On motorcycles?" I interrupted, suddenly recalling the sound of a black machine that was my own as I hastily roared up the engine to get away… from someone. Needles pricked my brain again, punishing me for remembering. My head was heavy and it throbbed in unison with my steady heartbeat.

"Uhm… yeah, actually. We… we got away on motorcycles." Marco claimed. "See, you remember stuff."

"Indeed, you do." Jason chimed in, raising his brows at Marco. He glared back at him and I remained clueless about their silent exchange.

"But not without murderous headaches." I told them, massaging my temples. I closed my eyes as my sight swam again, but didn't want to give up until I got the whole picture. "What about the girl in the hospital? She said she's my—"

"She's nobody!" Marco cut me off. "Just a cover affair. You were our inside man with the police. Forget her. She tried to destroy our business."

 _She's with the police. I see her in my mind. Weapon drawn. Brave. Steady. Cop. Flashes of another man's face. Piercing blue eyes and a grim and sour look. Who is he?_

"Argh." I groaned, pressing my palms to my head and hunching down to keep the contents of my stomach. "Shit, my head hurts."

"Maybe it's still a bit too much for you to take in." Marco said as I took deep, calming breaths. He stood from my makeshift bed. "You should rest. Just take your time until you're ready to get away with us. We're not completely safe, yet. That's why we still have to hide."

 _Get away? Where?_ "I… I don't trust you." I said forcefully to the two men standing by the door. Boldly, I glanced up from my hunched up position, curious what they would do with my truthful confession.

Marco clenched his jaw then shrugged his shoulders. "I wouldn't trust us either if I were in your position. But at least we can offer you food, some fresh clothes maybe and a place to rest and hide. Do with it whatever you want."

With that he left my small room. Jason stared back at me for a while longer before he followed his companion without closing the metal door. I got the message. They trust me. At least that's what they're trying to convince me of. The door is open. I can leave whenever I want. Now it's up to me if I choose to believe them or not.

I fell asleep before I could decide.

* * *

 **Hmm, what will Shawn do?  
**

 **Leave a review and I promise you'll find out soon... ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, buckle up, this is a long one... ;)**

 ** **Special thanks to MandaScooby and SnydersOfHanover who reviewed every chapter until now! You guys are great!  
****

* * *

Chapter 4:

Days passed.

I was in and out of consciousness, but in fact sleeping most of the day even though I tried not to. I noticed sleeping was toxic for my mind. Every time I woke up disoriented and confused. Sure, memories came back to me faster every morning, but it was still nerve-wrecking and each time I fell asleep I feared that I'd wake up once and know nothing all over again.

Another thing that bothered me while sleeping were the dreams.

Loud, fast and colorful dreams. Like waterfalls of pictures and sounds raining over my closed eyes. Too many. Way too many pictures. Imagine you're sitting in front of fifty different TV stations all turned up to the maximum volume and trying to follow every one of them at once.

My headaches were painfully terrific. Whoever said that resting heals wounds was a big fat liar. My forehead was burning up, my limbs felt numb and part of me wished that one day I won't wake up at all and all pain would end. _Sounds appealing, right?_

Marco and Jason seemed eager to keep me alive though. They brought me food and water and tried to keep my fever down. I would hear them rummaging around in the bigger room, talking and watching TV most of the time. Marco would sit with me sometimes and we spoke for a bit. Jason wasn't much of a talker and he didn't really seem to trust me even in my state of constant pain and forgetting.

After a while I decided that it couldn't be that bad to help Marco get away once I'm feeling better. He was nice to me and I didn't have to follow him if I didn't want to, right? He told me I was free to do whatever I liked. _Freedom is good. Marco knows what's important to me and he's not pressuring me to be someone else. So, Marco is good,_ I reasoned.

All of that could have been so easy, but the woman named Jules stayed true to her word. She didn't give up on me. Physically, she was absent, but that didn't stop her from penetrating my mind when I was asleep. Sometimes some of the dizzying moving pictures in my head were standing out more than others. Pictures of Jules.

 _Her hair down. Golden curls framing her smiling face._

 _Dressed in a pantsuit. Sitting at a desk, typing on a computer._

 _Standing next to a tall, serious man. I think I should recognize him by now, but I still don't know who he is._

There was another face that I managed to remember after waking up from such vivid dreams. In my head I called him Black Eight Ball.

 _Black Eight Ball is everywhere. Frowning at me, laughing at me. I feel I can trust him whenever his bald chocolate head appears in my mind. He's always there. I see him as a child. I see him as a teen. I see him as an adult dressed with his shirt tugged in, carrying a silver case. I think he is my friend._

He wasn't there when I woke up in the hospital, but something tells me that he really wanted to be.

Sometimes I got curious, imagining what it would be like to meet Black Eight Ball. And then reality sent a shot of pain through my brain when I tried to think about him harder. Marco was there, distracting me, helping me to walk on my injured knee and telling me how cool it's going to be like once I can walk on my own and help him escape and we roam around in a new town. And just like that, Jules and Black Eight Ball seemed to be forgotten until my next dream.

* * *

I stretched across the floor, dragging myself forward on one elbow. Teeth clenched, one hand securely covering my left knee. Still couldn't reach it. "Oh, come on…" I growled, extending my arm again. _Just a few inches._ "Ow!" I hissed when I twisted my knee. _This can't possibly be so hard! I won't get a chance like this again…_

Crawling forward, I finally managed to grab one leg of the wooden chair standing much too far away from my mattress and skidded it closer to me. _Ha, now they can'_ _t stop me!_

Marco and Jason were away to buy food. Usually they only leave me alone when I'm asleep, but I've been feeling better recently and didn't need as much rest as before. After my constant complaining that I was bored, they decided to escape me and get lunch. Marco considered going alone so Jason could 'look after me', as he put it, but he seemed to realize that I would be in graver danger if he left Death Stare Jason and Bored Me alone.

So I kept myself entertained by trying to stand up on my own for the first time. My makeshift bed was almost on ground level and I had to put too much pressure on my knee to stand up from the floor. But now that I had the chair, things will go my way for once!

I supported myself on the seat and pushed my body up. The chair almost tipped over, but with some trembling in my arms I managed to sit on top of it, wiping my brow. _Okay, now what should I do? The possibilities seem endless compared to the ones I've had while lying down._

After catching my breath, I decided to go for the main room that was actually some kind of big garage. I was able to look outside every once in a while when hobbling around with Marco. He told me that the garage belonged to a compound for broken cars, waiting to get scrapped. That was my hiding place. There wasn't much to do in the main room either, but I got drawn in by the TV. _I just want to pass the time. Surely, Marco and Jason have nothing against it._

Although, I noticed that the TV is solely on when I was lying in bed. Never when I was up. And even then it was turned down so quietly that I – being next door – couldn't really understand what was going on. I didn't reckon that they were doing it on purpose, so I thought nothing more of it and settled for some TV alone time as long as my companions were gone.

At a snail's pace I staggered forward, steadying myself on the doorway and then onwards through the open room. Proud of my accomplishment I let myself fall onto the battered, brown couch, reaching for the remote control. _Finally some fun and entertainment!_

I flipped through the channels, watching bits of some lame sitcoms that apparently got pushed away from their evening slot to midday. I found myself laughing nonetheless, welcoming every kind of distraction. There was a sitcom called "Seinfeld" and I was sure that I heard it before somewhere, but the only glimpse of memory I caught was with Black Eight Ball again. I watched it with him. Numerous times.

After the show ended it was time for the news at noon. I considered changing the channel, because the newscaster wore a toupee – _what a fake way to start a newscast –_ but stopped right on time as a picture of me appeared on the screen and he was announcing the local headline:

" _Psychic of Santa Barbara Police Department still missing. The local authorities are still at loss how Psychic Detective Shawn Spencer could disappear from his hospital bed one week ago. Until now there are no traces of struggle or force, indicating that the PI with diagnosed amnesia caused by a motorcycle accident wandered off on his own accord. His family, friends and colleagues are_ _asking the citizens for help."_

There was footage of a distraught-looking Jules. Dark circles under her eyes and tears brimming in them as she struggled to keep her voice from quivering.

" _He'_ _s 5_ _'9'', dark-brown hair, h-hazel eyes and when he… uhm, disappeared… he had a bandage 'round his head. He's very confused a-and doesn't know where he belongs anymore, so if you see him, please, contact the police immediately… and Shawn…"_

She looks directly into the lens of the camera.

" _If you're seeing this right now… please, come home to me."_

Shocked, I stared at the TV screen where the footage changed back to the fake looking newscaster who seamlessly went into the next topic. He moved his mouth, but I failed to follow his words. With my jaw slackened, I slumped back on the couch. _What was that!?_ My head started pounding as flashes of distorted, incoherent memories resurfaced in my brain.

 _Warmness. Psychic Detective._ _"_ _This is not funny, Shawn!" A window with light green lettering. A terra-cotta colored building. Cops. Dad. Jules. She's crying._ _"_ _I need space." She's laughing. She hugs me._ _"_ _Home should be wherever you are." A gunshot. The lanky guy. He's a detective. Her partner. "Thanks for saving her." A warehouse. Drugs. "What the hell, Spencer?!" A motorcycle…_

 _A slamming door._

"What the hell!"

"What do you think you're doing?!"

I barely caught glimpse of the TV again. There were pictures of Marco and Jason. And the headline: _Drug gang fugitives._ And then Marco snatched the remote control from my hand and turned it off.

"Hey, amigo, what makes you think that you can walk around on your own already?" Marco questioned with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"This is your fault, Marco!" Jason hissed accusingly.

I only rocked back and forth with my head covered between my arms, willing the pain and dizziness to go away. Their voices were too loud. Angry. _What did I just remember? Too much at once._

"Shh, idiot." Marco hissed back. "Let's… let us all calm down for a bit, okay?"

"W-What is your fault?" I asked the Latino.

"Nothing. Jason is just… worried. He said it would be a bad idea to leave you on your own."

I looked up, still massaging my temple and saw Jason's angry face. _Oh yeah, he's so worried he could probably kill me with one glance._

"So, what were you doing up?" Marco asked again. "You could have hurt yourself."

"I'm fine. Stop babying me." I said, confused over Marco's sudden change from angry to worried. "I was bored and I needed something to do…" Lost in thoughts I stared back at the black TV screen, my memories still humming and buzzing in the back of my head ready to break free once more.

Marco noticed. "How much have you seen?"

"I… I'm not sure…" I stuttered. _I'm not sure if I should tell you what I saw_ , but instead I said, "I saw… me, I guess… they're looking for me. They say I'm a… Detective." ' _Psychic', is what the TV had said. Am I one of those freaks who read palms and such? Is that what my mind tricks are about? There has got to be more to this…_

"Like I told you." Marco reminded me quickly. "You're our inside man. Those stupid cops never even noticed that you were in fact one of us."

Marco looked at me expectantly. Jason crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest. They seemed to be nervous about something. _About me? What have I done?_

"Did you see that they're looking for us, too?" Jason asked bluntly.

I nodded. "Just briefly. My brain had a major meltdown in between. Why… why is that so important to you?"

"For god's sake, Jason! You're ruining everything! Just go!" Marco yelled suddenly.

The two men stared venomously at each other, until Jason retreated without taking his eyes off of me. He fished for his cigarette box and opened the garage door to step outside. Marco focused back on me and I dithered between being grateful that he made the mean guy go away and being suspicious about why he made him go away.

Marco smiled and patted my shoulder. "Sorry for yelling, amigo. It's just that Jason can't understand that things like what you saw on TV could confuse you. You're not fully healed yet, Shawn, and we don't want you to lose touch with reality again, right?"

He paused shortly, but I just managed to open and close my mouth, dumbfounded. I felt like I already lost touch with reality.

"So, yeah, it's true. They're looking for us." Marco continued. "But they have no idea that we're playing for the same team. And if we're careful they won't even notice when we skip town. Never forget that, pal. We're so close. If you're up for it we could probably leave in a few days." He patted my shoulder again. Harder this time. Excited. "We'll go wherever you want. Just think about it, man!"

I awkwardly smiled back. "Yeah. Sounds good." With one final friendly shove, Marco retrieved some styrofoam boxes that he carelessly threw to the ground before and we started eating Mexican food. I watched him dig in, but didn't really feel the urge to eat myself. Something still bothered me. "Hey, uhm, there's one more thing I remembered… someone. That… that lady… the policewoman. She seemed really torn up about my disappearance."

"The blonde chick?" Marco rolled his eyes. "Man, just forget her already! You just charmed her and she fell for it. Hard. Silly, poor thing. You're better off without her, pal, believe me. She's way too clingy."

Something moved inside of me. A feeling swelled up in my chest: annoyance mixed with the sudden urge to smack Marco in the face. I caught myself thinking, " _You're not talking about her like that!"_ I could barely stop myself from saying that out loud. _Did I just want to defend someone I didn't know? How good do I really know her?_ I looked down on my left hand. For the first time since I woke up in Marco's hideout I realized that I was still wearing the ring. _Is she clingy? Is that why we're married in the first place? How long have I known her? Since when was I that supposed inside man for the police?_

* * *

 _Warmness._

 _She's dancing around in my head again. She wears a beautiful, white dress, looking like an angel. A white goddess. I spin her around. She ends up in my arms. Her cheeks, red, happy. Her eyes, sparkling with joy. She comes closer to me. She kisses me._

 _Love._

With a start I shot up from my bed. Panting, I looked around in the bare, dark room that was so much different than my bright and happy dream. I felt dizzy from moving so quickly and sank back down, closing my eyes. She was still there. Still dancing.

"Oye, Shawn, you alright?"

I took a few more deep breaths before answering Marco. "Yeah… just another… another nightmare."

"Care to talk about it?" he asked.

I considered his offer for a bit, recalling what he had said before.

" _She's nobody. Forget about her."_

"No," I answered. "No, I'm good. Night, Marco."

"Night, Shawn."

My eyes popped open as soon as I heard him retreating. I touched my lips, tingling as if she just kissed me. There was love. I felt it. _That's it. I can no longer believe that she's_ nobody. _Something is very wrong here and I need to find out what it is._

* * *

There was a new level of suspicion on both sides on the next day. That last dream opened my eyes. It was clear for the first time and not distorted or mingled with ten other memories simultaneously. I saw Jules, felt her vividly, as if she was truly there. Suddenly, I noticed all the hidden, observant glances Marco and Jason threw at each other or at me. Their hushed talks when they thought I was sleeping. Their anger when they caught me watching TV.

 _Something is wrong; my gut is telling me that._ I chose to trust it.

I was still afraid of my old life. I didn't like that it makes me feel so helpless. So dependent on others. So not in control.

But was this new life really so much better?

All I had from Marco and Jason was their word. No old memories. But with Jules the memories were getting stronger every day. I _had_ to trust someone to make me heal completely. I wanted to heal. I wanted to be someone. Someone real.

I stayed in bed all morning, refusing to eat and let Marco and Jason believe that I was feeling worse again. It was late afternoon and I still pretended to be asleep, waiting for them to finally leave me alone to get something to eat. I heard them fight about it, but eventually their hunger was getting the best of them and Marco 'jokingly' warned me that I shouldn't try anything stupid today. Then I heard the garage door click shut.

I sat up. _What should I do? Leave? Find proof of their possible crimes? Find proof for my dream?_ I didn't know where to start, so I repeated my actions from yesterday and dragged myself over to the chair to sit on it and think.

 _How should I find out more about Jules? Remembering her will hurt. Is it worth the pain?_

Still lost in thought, my gaze flew down to the wedding band on my finger again. I wore it so naturally, without really noticing that it was there. I touched the metal with my right hand. _Nothing yet._ The dream I had appeared to be our wedding day. So, surely a lot of memories were still hidden somewhere inside of me, waiting to be released. _This has to be good. Maybe I'm not completely broken at all. Maybe there truly were happy days._

I pulled the ring off, rolling it between thumb and index finger. There were some letters engraved into the inside of the golden band. I looked closer.

 _Shawn & Juliet – Yours forever – December 28_ _th_ _2013_

 _Here we go._ Ringing in my ears and a whirlwind of memories in my brain.

 _The ocean breeze. It's chilly, but she wanted to get married_ _at the beach. We got lucky. The sun is shining. Me again, dressed in a tux, looking upwards, thankful for the winter sun._ _"_ _Shawn, we're ready!" Black Eight Ball. Tears of joy in his eyes. Tears of joy in her eyes. Jules takes my hand. Gently, slipping on the ring. Oh, her eyes! Shining with sincerity._ _"_ _I love you, Shawn Spencer. Forever." A kiss. My hands, slipping on her ring._ _"_ _I love you, too."_

For the first time, I clearly heard my own voice in my memories. Stating that I was really there. That it was really me, telling her I loved her.

The world spun around me as the flashback ended. My heart beat fast and my head pounded in unison. Still I wanted more! This was good. I craved for some good memories, for some happiness. I wanted to know more about her.

Slipping the ring back on, I clenched my fists and closed my eyes, picturing her in my mind, forcing the memories to come back. More ringing, louder, sharper. I pictured her exactly the way I saw her last, when I asked her to leave me alone in the hospital. As she walked backwards. _"_ _I'm here for you."_ Eyes filled with undying hope.

 _More pain. Her pain._ _"_ _Are you telling me this is all a lie?" Heartache. Hope. Love._ _"_ _I never lied about the way I feel for you." She embraces me. She's there for me. She accepts me exactly how I am. Me, bent down on one knee. "I'll always fight for you. I won't lose you ever again."_

 _There was more. So much more. The pictures kept coming. A thousand voices in my head. I couldn't process all of them. So many colors. So loud. So much._

Suddenly, I was kneeling on the floor, emptying my stomach in front of me. I had to stop. My brain went into overload. I remembered so many details at once that I started sweating and my heart drummed as if it would burst out of my chest any second now. With trembling arms, I hovered above the ground. _Don_ _'t fall down or you won't get up!_

I forced myself to straighten up, my knee screaming in protest as I did so. _Up. I have to get up._ One memory in particular repeated itself in my brain.

 _I won't lose you ever again._

I made her that promise when I proposed. I knew that now. We broke up once, the details were a little fuzzy, but that didn't matter right now. I promised that I would fight and instead I betrayed her. I left her.

I struggled to my feet, staggering to the metal door, breathing heavily. _In and out. In and out. I can do this._ I felt the urge to look around some more. There wasn't really a doubt left in my mind, but I wanted to be sure. I wanted to know who Marco and Jason really were. If they lied to me about Jules, they most likely lied about everything else, too. I had to know why.

I moved along the wall, looked into shelves that were almost empty and dug through a messy desk. I came up with nothing. There were boxes with garbage from our takeout food and wooden crates I couldn't open without a crowbar. The sofa and the TV, _I tried that already… what else?_

My gaze swiveled over to the other side of the garage. The side with the garage door and a big, plain canvas covering what I assumed was most likely a vehicle. I've never bothered to look beneath; it was there before Marco and Jason brought me here.

I hobbled over, determination buzzing in every fiber of my being. With a suppressed wince, I steadied myself as I reached the side of the covered object. My fingers gripped the canvas tightly, relieved that there was a solid surface beneath on which I could support my weight. Silently, I counted to three then I pulled at the cover.

A dark blue car came into view. At first glance nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I checked the doors, but it was locked. I pried through the tinted windows, but it appeared to be empty. Steadied by the car, I moved around it, observing the back and the driver's side and finally the front.

That's when I did a double-take.

The front grill of the car was damaged. It was bend inwards and the metal was scratched, as if another hard, metallic object collided with it. The blue color chipped off and I thought I could make out some tiny shards of black…

 _I hear a crash. I am afraid. I sit on the motorcycle, engine roaring. Heart pounding quickly. I hear my own panicked breathing. A look over my shoulder. The dark blue car. It comes closer. I recognize the men sitting in the front seats. Jason on the passenger side, Marco behind the wheel._

I stumbled backwards.

 _They chased me. We were not getting away from the police,_ I _was trying to get away from_ them.

 _They're the reason I had the accident._

"Oh, crap, they're the bad guys. I was wrong." I muttered to myself in shock.

But, as usual, whenever you think thing can't possibly get any worse, that's when you hear faint voices and steps on the gravel road nearing the garage door.

* * *

 **Uh oh!**

 **Please, don't forget to review and let me know what you think! :)**

 **And by the way, did someone catch that Shawn was quoting himself without noticing when he thought about the fake newscaster? Remember the episode? ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys, sorry for the wait! :) Thanks for still reading and following!**

 **Just as a remembrance, Shawn just found the car that drove him off the road, but his 'friends' are about to catch him in the act...**

* * *

Chapter 5:

My heart skipped a beat.

 _If they find me here, they_ _'_ _ll know that I know._

The voices were getting clearer. Marco and Jason must have almost reached the garage door.

 _I'_ _m_ _screwed, I'm_ _so screwed,_ my panicked mind repeated over and over.

When I heard the door rattling, I stumbled more than I walked around the car and crouched down at the backside corner of the vehicle that would shield me from their view when they come in. My heart pounded and I tried to get my breathing under control so it wouldn't give away my poor hiding place.

The door opened.

"What the…"

"Shit, what did he do this time?" a voice muttered. "Shawn? Where are you, buddy?"

Marco quickly neared my spare room, while Jason lagged behind. I crawled on all fours along the driver's side, the side facing the wall, to keep out of their view, biting my lip so I wouldn't cry out from the pain my knee caused me.

I knew that, soon, I would have to endure much graver pain.

"Do you think he—"

"Shh!" Marco shushed Jason quickly, reaching the back room. "Son of a bitch!" He exclaimed. Jason quickly caught up to him. "He's not here!"

 _Now or never!_

I bolted up from my hiding place and made a run for the open garage door. The sun blinded me, but my eyes teared up for a different reason. The movement was too quick for my still healing knee.

I ran without really seeing where I should run to. I heard them yell and curse behind me. They chased me. And they were getting closer fast. _Oh, god, how do I lose_ _them!?_

" _A straight line is the shortest distance between two people_ _. Zig zag, Shawn! Zig zag!"_

Out of nowhere, a stern voice suddenly appeared in my brain and I found it very hard not to immediately react to the commanding tone. I wasted no time wondering where it came from, but followed the order and zigzagged between the rows and rows of totaled, dusty cars in the compound.

More swearing. Fast, crunchy footsteps on the ground. _There are two of them and I_ _'_ _m alone. I have to lose them._

I ran as fast as I could, completely neglecting all pain. With every change in direction, my knee stung and throbbed harder. My breath hitched in my chest. I wanted to scream, but I used up all air for panting.

The cars were piled up, making it easier for me to remain unseen. But I was still slow. Too slow. Too easy to catch. I could hear them arguing about which direction I went. I only half listened. Before me I saw a three meter high fence. I was nearing the exit. I just had to run along the fence and search for the…

"Oww!" I cried out unintentionally, when I tripped over something, sending me face down to the dusty ground. I skinned my forearms when I tried to brace the fall and for a second my vision blurred. I knew that I should keep moving and immediately tried to get up. "Arg!" I hissed again, biting my tongue and falling back down again. I clutched my left knee and looked back to the dented rearview mirror I just tripped over.

In its reflection I could see Jason getting closer to me.

Swiftly, I rolled over beneath one of the old cars. I swirled up dust and felt the overwhelming urge to cough, but I just couldn't. I couldn't make any sound or he would find me.

With my hand pressed in front of my mouth I waited. I heard Jason's footsteps, rounding the corner to where I laid just a few seconds earlier. He slowed down, kicking away the rearview mirror. I could see his feet. Jason had stopped, doing a full circle on the spot.

I didn't dare breathing.

My heartbeat drummed tremendously loud. I bet he could hear it.

I flinched, as suddenly he kneeled down and his hands appeared on the dirty floor followed shortly after by his Death Stare Face, looking directly into mine.

He grinned.

In an instant I averted my gaze and shifted towards the other side of the car to get away from him, but I already felt his hand grasping for my arm, holding on unrelentingly.

"He's here! I got him!" Jason yelled.

I fought, struggled and flopped around like a fish on land. Jason wouldn't let go.

Another pair of footsteps were getting closer, stopping shortly next to the car I was hiding under. Marco grabbed me by the leg.

"No!" I protested, trying to shake him off. Dusty air filled my lungs and I needed to cough, losing all concentration to get Jason and Marco away from me. They pulled me out into the light.

"I told you this would come." Jason complained.

I blinked against the brightness of the sky above me, looking into their twisted faces.

"I know."

Marco answered shortly, before his fist came flying down at me and suddenly I saw nothing but blackness.

* * *

 _Humming. Buzzing. Then muffled sounds. Voices._

Like hearing under water everything was dull when I regained consciousness. I could hear myself breathe. My head hung down; the weight of it was so heavy that I couldn't lift it. Slowly, the voices were getting clearer. Angry voices arguing. I didn't know who was talking.

"I told you this would happen! What's your genius plan now, smart ass?" the first voice snarled.

"Shut your damn mouth!" another voice swore. "At least I tried to get us out of this hell hole! I didn't hear anything better from you!"

"I said, 'Let's shoot him before he sells us out'."

"Are you crazy?! They're after us for drug trafficking and you want to kill somebody?! That will only make it worse!"

"Unless you think of something else quick this is going to be our move!"

 _Kill somebody,_ the words repeated in my brain. _Kill who? I don_ _'_ _t want to kill someone. I don_ _'_ _t want to be killed. I have to get away from those wannabe killers._

I braced myself to get up, but was immediately held back by my arms. I blinked rapidly to clear my blurry vision and managed to make out a grey, dark room. A mattress lay on the floor and I was sitting on a chair. I've seen this room before.

I see me: _Waking up, sleeping on that mattress._

I see two faces: _Marco and Jason._

 _Marco and Jason in the dark blue car. Accident. Amnesia. Hospital. Jules._

Confused, I tried to sort the snippets of memories, but no sequence made sense. I knew, however, who was good and who was bad. As I remembered fear spread through my body, running like ice inside of my veins even into the last corner of my form.

 _They_ _'_ _re planning to kill me._

Again I stiffened, ready to run on my unsteady legs, but layers of duct tape around my wrists secured me to the backrest of the chair. I was also fixed around my midsection and ankles. Fueled by fear slowly merging into panic, I yanked at the tape forcefully, causing it to burn into my skin. I wiggled around as well as I could, making the chair scrape over the floor. The voices outside died down. They heard me. I tugged harder at my bonds, but to no avail. Marco and Jason entered my room.

The looks on their faces were nothing like I remembered. Both seemed to be stressed, angry and shifty-eyed. Their nervousness, cluelessness about how to handle this situation was distinctly visible in their demeanor. It made them unpredictable and dangerous. I read them like a book, I noticed, assessing them automatically and somehow I was sure that there was a right way to approach them now in this situation. But even if I knew how, I decided for unpredictable myself.

"There he is again." Marco sneered. "Tell us, what were you trying to pull off?"

"Hey, uhm, guys." I cleared my raspy throat, attempting to speak casually to my scary opponents. "What's going on? I thought we were on the same side."

"We thought so, too, so why were you running away from us?" Marco asked, crossing his arms intimidatingly.

"Oh, I, I just wanted to clear my head, you know." I said. "Go for a walk, meeting new—"

"Cut the crap and tell us what you know!" Jason exclaimed, stepping forward.

He grabbed my shoulder tightly, bringing his face so close to mine that I had to look into his furious eyes. An impatient fire burned behind them and I wondered how much I could poke him until he exploded and attacked me… unless Marco held him back. _Would he hold him back?_

"I'm telling you, I cleared my head. And it worked. I should have gotten some fresh air way sooner." The punch hitting my jaw from the left came as a surprise. Jason really wasn't a very patient man. My head flew to the right and the throbbing triggered some little explosions of pain in my head. I kept myself from crying out.

"Do you think that's funny, dumbass?" Jason spat. "You remembered something."

Marco stepped closer. His clever eyes full of threat and challenge. "You better tell him, pal. He's not the most understanding person. How much do you know?"

It baffled me that Marco still talked to me as if we were friends. Albeit with a vicious edge to his voice as if he would snap any minute and show me his true face.

"Bashing Jules… was where you stepped too far." I told Marco. "You really… really shouldn't have done that." I paused, realizing that I could hardly concentrate on talking. The throbbing Jason caused with his punch completely jumbled my brain. _Jumble. Ha, that_ _'s_ _a funny word. Jumble, jumble_ _…_

"Well, I have to admit she's one of a kind." Marco grinned.

I slowly blinked at him. "Who?"

Marco and Jason looked at each other. "You hit your head hard, huh?" Marco asked.

"Oh, yeah, man. Apparently." I replied. "It's so hard to concentrate… oh, wait. No, I remember. You— you hit me, you ass!" I frowned at Jason who lifted his arm again. Marco stopped him.

"Wait, I want to know what he remembers before we smack all sense out of him."

"What for?" Jason almost whined, like a child who was denied a lollipop.

Marco still grinned devilishly. "I like to see the look on his face when he remembers and then we'll take it from him all over again. We'll restart him. It was fun the first time, wasn't it?"

I didn't think he asked someone in particular, but I recalled some pictures when he said that. _The dark-blue car. The sound it made when it collided with my motorcycle. Me, flying over the handlebars._

I groaned, wishing that I could lift my hands to keep my head from bursting. _Hey, why can_ _'_ _t I lift my hands again? Man, is it hot in here?_ "You… you did that to me." I wheezed. "You're the reason why my head h-hurts. What did I do? Why're you doing this?"

"You tell me, psychic!" Marco spoke up. Louder this time.

 _Psychic. Me? Mind tricks. I remember stuff. I_ _'_ _m psychic! I work for the police. Jules._

"Everything worked out fine, y'know. It was the last shipment and then you had to interfere! You and your stupid girl cop."

Marco's words were too loud. My head spun. _Throb. Throb. Throb. In my brain. It_ _'_ _s really hot in here!_ He said more. I couldn't hear him. There were pictures again. Blurry. _A warehouse. Men in dark hoodies, carrying crates. Me, hid behind a garbage can. Too much!_ His face swam in front of my eyes. Jason closed in again. His fist. Another punch in the gut. Black spots, then it cleared. I could hear the voices again.

"No, you don't get to black out yet. I want you to know!" Marco growled. "What did you do wrong?"

"Nothing." I wheezed. "I… I saw you doing bad… bad things. I-I… don't know. I can't think…"

"I'll make you think." Marco said, removing his handkerchief to wrap it around his fist before he hauled off and punched me in the face.

 _Shit, he_ _'_ _s much stronger than Jason_. I got nauseous, struggling to see straight. Marco was suddenly furious. The first punch awoke something within him. He stood in front of me, wide stance, fists clenched and the tattoo on his neck glistening under a light sheen of sweat. The tattoo. _I remember the tattoo._ _Oh, no, no more pictures!_ I moaned in agony as it started again.

 _It_ _'_ _s a snake, wrapped around a crown. The lanky detective._ _"_ _They call themselves the_ _'_ _Cobras_ _', '_ _cause they_ _'_ _re agile and fast._ _"_ _A young man. His eyes, just like Marco_ _'_ _s._ _"_ _He'_ _s here to testify._ _" A gunshot. Blood._ _"_ _Thanks for saving her._ _"_

"What is it? Tell me what you know!" Marco yelled.

I screamed. _Throbbing. Hot blood in my head. So much pain._ "I know them!" I called out. My voice was raspy and desperate. I couldn't keep up the act. It hurt too much. I had to tell them what they wanted to know so I could have some peace and silence. "I know the people in my head."

"Who do you see?" Marco asked.

He clutched my throat in his strong hand, forcing myself to look up to him. I gasped for air, coughing feebly until he let go. I panted. "The… the detective who's on… your case. I know him. He saved her. Jules."

"And why?"

His eyes. Burning, dark pools of black fire. _He'_ _s so angry. Why is he so angry?_ I let the pictures come to me. I didn't hold back. All insanely loud sounds and frenzy loud pictures. I feared what he would do if I didn't provide him the answer he desperately wanted, so I tried to sort out what was important to him. Maybe it will be last thing that I remembered.

"There's a man. He has the same eyes…" Black spots in my view. "The same eyes as you. But he's younger. He did something. S-Something happened… to him."

"He did nothing!"

Marco lost it, punching me so hard that the chair tipped over to the side. In the end, it was Jason who held onto Marco's arm, but he broke free, continuing his rant.

"That police bitch made him do this! He never would've sold us out like that. He's dead because of you!"

Marco's screams mixed with my internal screams of agony until my whole understanding became one giant cloud of cries and pain. I didn't know where I was anymore. I didn't know why Marco was yelling. I couldn't comprehend what he was saying. The floor was cold. Cold was good. My head felt so hot, like it was actually on fire.

Not long after the screams, hitting followed. To my gut. To my legs. I skidded over the floor, still bound to the chair. I couldn't pinpoint where it hurt the most. The cloud of pain swallowed me whole and led me to a wonderful, dark place called oblivion.

* * *

...

It felt like being born.

Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, you open your eyes and there you are.

 _Wait_ _, I_ _'_ _ve been there before._

 _Uhm_ _…_ _where am I?_

My face was cold. I lay on the side, cheek resting on the floor. The place where I opened my eyes was dark and small. I smelled copper and tasted blood on my lips. Very confusing.

 _Where am I?_

I tried to move my head and got punished with stabs to the very core of my brain. At least it felt like actual stabs. Although the room swayed like crazy, I was able to make out a metallic door that was obviously securely locked. The only light came from a window high above the floor.

 _What happened?_

All further movements were pointless, because I was tied to a chair. I was trapped.

 _Why can_ _'_ _t I remember?_

I noticed that my breathing quickened and reasoned that it wouldn't be good if I had a panic attack in my current state. So I forced myself to calm down. I closed my eyes. Listening into my mind. Breathe…

 _Black. Nothingness. Darkness_ _…_

 _Then a subtle hint_ _…_ _a shimmer of gold. Hair of gold. A tear in blue eyes. A feeling. Warmness._

"Jules!"

* * *

 **Confused? ...Good, 'cause it's only getting worse, haha ;)**

 **Oh, and here's another remembrance... please, don't forget to review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, as always thanks for reading and reviewing! :)**

 **Now we take a small break from Shawn's plotline (hehe!), 'cause this is a chapter from Juliet's POV. ;)**

 **I hope you enjoy it...**

* * *

Chapter 6:

Juliet ran her fingers through her wavy, golden hair, supporting her head on her hand. Her head throbbed. Her eyes burned. Maybe caused from too much crying. Maybe caused from too little sleeping. Or maybe both. _Definitely both_ , she thought.

The past weeks had been nerve-wrecking and especially the last few days blurred together into an ongoing span of anxiousness. She hardly slept, only ate when she was urged to do so and practically lived at the police station by now. Her friends worried a lot about her, but how could they expect her to do anything else than look for her husband?

When Juliet returned after Shawn had sent her away to clear his mind, she had been full of hope. It felt like the right thing to do. He would settle down, think everything through what he learnt since he woke up and then they would reunite to hear the doctor's test results. And no matter what it would say, they would face the future together. Like they always did. Because they're a team.

Juliet clearly remembered her gut clenching fear when she had entered Shawn's room and found the bed unoccupied. She had run into the bathroom, which was still a bit humid, as if someone just used it. Then she had stormed off to find a doctor from whom she demanded to know where Shawn was. She ran into the nurse who was in charge of her husband most of the time and she told Juliet that Shawn wanted to shower on his own.

By this time Juliet knew somehow. She knew about Shawn's impulsiveness and his insecurity hidden deep down beneath his mask of playfulness. But she needed proof, so she'd sprinted back into his room, opened the drawers and found some of his clothes and money gone. She'd stumbled backwards, her hand covering her mouth. Juliet's fear had gripped her heart like an icy fist.

Shawn had run away.

It was the guilt that was slowly eating her up ever since. Although Gus, Lassiter and even Henry had told her that she only did what felt right to her, being close to Shawn when he woke up, Juliet still knew that it was at least partly her fault. The doctors had explained to her multiple times that Shawn would most likely not remember her and that it could scare him to learn that he was so seriously committed to someone he had no memory of.

But Juliet didn't listen.

Blindly trusting that their connection was strong enough to overcome every obstacle that was thrown at them. Shawn was always lucky. Always. Even if the rational person stated that he really couldn't be lucky this time, he still walked away from the situation with his head held high and that winning smile on his face.

Juliet felt incredibly naïve. She should have known that Shawn wasn't different from any other person. That he, too, was vulnerable to any kind of hurt or misery even if it seemed like he was oddly invincible.

And now her love was gone. Scared away by his own wife and Juliet hated herself for it.

Sharp tongues guessed that Shawn wasn't even alive anymore. Juliet heard some clueless officers talk about Shawn's state of health and his knack for getting into trouble. She had yelled at them furiously, making them shrink on the spot in shame until Lassiter had come to calm her down and to yell at the officers some more.

She couldn't stand that possibility. Shawn still had to be out there. Alone and maybe scared and hurt, but alive nonetheless. She just had to find him. This couldn't be the one time that Shawn Spencer wasn't lucky.

"Hey, found out anything new?" Gus let himself fall into the chair next to Juliet's desk in the station. He'd done that for the whole last week, much like Shawn always used to do. Without previous notice he just showed up after his work, where he forced himself to go, and without any worry that he could distract Juliet from important cases. They both knew what she was working on.

"No." Juliet sighed with a shiver, fighting to keep it together around her colleagues. "The missing person report gets aired every hour during the local news. I've hung flyers and asked around. All we know is that he took a cab from the hospital to the bus station and then he disappears." Juliet ran her fingers through her hair again, frantically searching for a tissue with her other hand to stop the tears that threatened to fall.

Gus reached into his pocket and offered his friend a Kleenex. She took it with a small thank you. "I never leave the house without at least three or four packages…" Gus sniffed. "You know… you know I'm a sympathetic crier." He fiddled with the package of tissues and fished one out for his own.

"I'm not… crying, Gus." Juliet said in a trembling voice. "I'm done with that. Crying isn't going to bring Shawn back. I have to do something! I have to… I have to find him!" Juliet noticed that, once again, a lump formed in her throat, making it hard for her to breath. She fought down more than one panic attack in the last few days, but it was getting harder and harder to accomplish.

She had reached the end of her strength.

Juliet couldn't keep up her badass cop appearance when she actually felt like the whole world was dissolving around her. Shawn was her anchor. He always had been. Even before they dated, he was there for her, comforting her and lifting the weight of the world from her shoulders with his humor and his confidence that everything will work out fine in the end. She didn't know what she would do without him and it hurt her to the bone that this stupid accident could make him forget her.

Gus had moved closer to her when he noticed her shaking. "Hey, don't freak out now or I'll freak out, too. We'll find him. We won't give up, right?"

"I-I can't do this any longer, Gus. I need him back." Juliet sobbed. "If I hadn't—"

"No, we talked about this." Gus interrupted. "It's not your fault."

"I know, but…" Juliet sighed again deeply. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't pressured the younger brother to testify. Maybe the shootout would have had a different outcome."

"Yeah, _you_ could have been dead instead of him." Gus remembered her. "The bullet only hit the younger brother because Lassiter pushed you out of the way."

"Or maybe I wouldn't have been the target at all." Juliet argued. "Then Shawn wouldn't have jumped into my case without telling me and those bastards wouldn't have run him off the street."

Her voice grew louder and it carried over to Lassiter's desk unavoidably. "Hey, speaking of those bastards…" he said, walking over to Juliet's desk and starting to click wildly on her computer without asking for her permission. "I think we should check this out."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "Carlton, I really do appreciate that you're trying to distract me by finding the remaining 'Cobras' and put them behind bars. They deserve the worst and normally I would be happy to help, but right now… I… I just can't think of anything other than Shawn."

"I understand. I really do." Lassiter said. "But since you're refusing to go home and rest, you might as well act on your frustration by finding those worthless pieces of crap… for Shawn." he added when he noticed that his own anger was building up within him. "It can be very cathartic."

"Carlton…" Juliet grumbled, but her partner didn't let her finish.

"You're stressed, Juliet. And it's making you sick. When was the last time you slept for more than four hours straight?" He didn't wait to hear the answer. "You have to get your mind off of him for a bit. I know it's hard, but Henry has got this covered. I swear he's the only one who turned even crazier than you. He's looking for Shawn day and night and you are going to help me find the worst scums of this earth."

Lassiter's icy blue eyes stared at her intensely, daring her to disagree with him. He was right, she knew that. Henry and Gus were always on the streets looking for Shawn. That they couldn't find him until now could mean that Shawn actually found a hiding place and that he was waiting for his memory to come back. Or maybe he _did_ remember and was afraid of the 'Cobras'. She could help him by putting the remaining two away. Maybe then Shawn would come out of his cover.

 _Or maybe he was at the bus station and managed to leave town and I'll_ _never see him again._ Juliet shook her head when her pessimistic, but sadly more realistic thought hit her.

"Okay." she said eventually, battling her despaired feelings down once more. _For the last time_ , she promised to herself. _I can_ _'_ _t hold back any longer._ "I'll go with you." She turned her gaze towards her computer. "What are we looking at?"

* * *

What they were looking at was a former working place of Jason Curtis, the right hand man of Marco Estrada, the head of the gang.

Lassiter explained to Juliet – and reluctantly also to Gus – that he was slowly but surely narrowing down the hideout possibilities for the remaining members of the gang. Right after they had busted the drug ring and noticed that Marco and Jason took off after Shawn, Lassiter and Chief Vick had ordered to block all entry and exit ways of town. Airports, train and bus stations all had mug shots of the two criminals. They were trapped.

Juliet had to admit that her partner had done impeccable work to give her at least some sort of comfort during this hard and terrible time. Lassiter already checked a number of addresses that could be linked back to the members of the gang. Former hideouts, known living addresses and in this case, a scrap yard for cars that once belonged to a cousin of Jason Curtis who had disappeared a few months back.

Juliet knew that it would hurt her all the more if she got her hopes up now only to be disappointed, but she decided that she couldn't possibly feel any worse. Her beloved husband was gone. What difference did it make if they would find the men who broke him? Shawn would still be gone and Juliet would still be miserable.

So she couldn't help but feel unfocused when Gus, who insisted that he came with them even if he would only wait in the car, Lassiter and the handful of cops were on their way to the scrap yard.

They arrived without sirens not to alarm whoever may be hiding inside and cut a hole into the chain-link fence that surrounded the compound. For once, Juliet was glad that Lassiter asked her to stay behind him at all times. She really wasn't sure if she would have been able to lead a team of cops on her own being as distracted and worried as she was.

They neared the garage located in the back of the compound like a noose tightening around its target. Lassiter and another cop soon stood close to each side of the garage door, the only visible entrance, Juliet right on his heels. They listened.

Faintly, they could make out voices from the inside. Juliet strained her ears, moving even closer to Lassiter to catch what the voices were saying. She only picked up snippets of the conversation, although they were arguing pretty loudly. Something about 'coming up with a different plan' and 'he won't remember'.

Juliet all but pressed her ear to the wall next to the garage door. Finally she understood clearly what the voice was yelling next:

" _I don_ _'t care, let'_ _s just kill the psychic!_ _"_

Her heart stuttered and froze.

For a second the world stopped turning and she locked gazes with her partner, who looked as shocked as she felt. Then Lassiter yelled the order to barge in.

It was a textbook arrest. Marco's and Jason's faces were priceless as the cops pulled up the garage door and demanded they put their hands up in the air. In less than fifteen seconds both criminals were handcuffed and officers read them their rights.

But Juliet paid absolutely no attention to the arrest. The second she was through the door her eyes were looking for Shawn.

 _They said psychic. There_ _'_ _s only one psychic. How did they manage to capture Shawn? Where is he?_

"Shawn?" she called, hurrying through the dim-lighted garage. "Shawn? Please, answer me!" She spotted a heavy metal door, probably leading to a back room. Juliet pulled at the lever to open the door, but it stuck. "Carlton! In here!" she cried. Her partner rushed over to help her, not once questioning what she was hoping to find behind the door.

The hinge creaked and moaned, then it moved. Juliet ran inside. Duct tape on the floor and also a little blood. Positioned at the wall, she looked upon a weird construction. There was a small, wobbly table placed on a dirty mattress that obviously had been used lately. On top of the table was a chair and further above the wall a shattered open window where sunlight streamed in like a holy glow. Other than that the room was empty.

 _Where the hell was he now?!_

* * *

 **Dun Dun Dun!**

 **Next you'll find out what happened to Shawn, I promise. Just keep reading and** _ **reviewing**_ **! It means the world to me if you do… :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, everyone! :)**

 **This is Shawn's POV again, following what happened after he remembered Jules... again...**

 **I hope you enjoy and as always, please be so kind and leave a review at the end! :)**

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Chapter 7:

A car horn blared, making me stumble backwards. Good thing it did because I was, once again, very close to the curb line and would have ended up on the street without noticing if it wasn't for that car.

My sight came and went while I was aimlessly stumbling along a walkway I didn't recognize. Most of the time all I saw was blurry brightness and the washy grey from the cobblestone beneath my unsteady feet. I bumped into people. They stopped and dull swooshing in my ears told me that they were talking to me. I couldn't understand them, couldn't even see them. My whole concentration was used up on breathing, moving forward and clinging on the only memory in my painfully throbbing monster of a brain.

 _Jules._

When I first remembered her, back on the cold, hard ground in that small room, it was like an epiphany. I knew that I had to get to Jules. I couldn't really tell why. I wasn't even sure who she was, but I knew that she was a safe place. And that it wasn't safe wherever I was.

So I worked on the duct tape on my wrists, pulling and rubbing it against the splintery wood of the chair I was tied to. My muscles hurt from being bent into that unnatural position and often I had to stop to catch my breath, which was oddly irregular.

When the tape finally gave way I slipped out, burning my skin in the process. I removed the tape from my ankles and midsection and flopped face down to the ground, stretching out in relief. My heart pounded against my chest and my breathing came in erratic half wheezes.

Just like it did right now while walking. I had to pause, supporting myself on what I believe was a parked car. The metal was cold and smooth. I slipped, falling down to my knees. _Breathe. Keep breathing. It_ _'_ _ll be worth all the pain once I find Jules. She_ _'_ _ll make the pain stop. I_ _'_ _ll be safe with her._

While I had been lying so still in the dark room, I could hear muffled voices that must have come from the other side of the solid door. I had been terrified of the voices. They sounded so harsh and angry. Once again, my mind conjured up _warmness_ that I associated with Jules and I knew that she could never sound so angry. I had to get away from those voices and find her.

 _Okay, I have to get up again,_ I thought while leaning against the car. I tensed my strained muscles to wrestle myself off the ground. There was pain radiating from my abdomen, leg and especially my head. The taste of blood was prominent on my lips. I was covered in sweat, but despite the sun on my skin I was freezing. _Doesn_ _'_ _t matter. I have to keep walking. Find Jules._

My mind traveled back to the dark room. When I tried to get to my hands and knees, trembling from head to toe. I had been nauseous and sweaty. For some reason my left knee had hurt way more than the right one when I crawled over to the nearest wall to lean on, chest heaving in exhaustion. I had rested there until my sight got clear enough to become aware of my surroundings.

A table to my left, a chair lying on its side in the middle of the room, a worn mattress in the right front corner and a small window in the wall above. It went without saying that I definitely wasn't trying to get out the door from where the voices came. So, whether it fitted me or not, my only option was the window.

Maybe if I had been clearer in that moment I would have known that it was an insanely idiotic plan, but that thought didn't occur to me at all. Jules was the sole thing in my mind. She was like a siren calling me; I couldn't ignore her. This was life or death. I knew it somehow.

 _It still_ is _life or death. Keep going,_ I urged myself. I was able to get up from the sidewalk, clenching my teeth from the pain in my knee and stomach. My throat hurt and it cramped up. _Boy, what I would do for one gulp of water right now._ My legs felt like rubber, but they were driven forward almost on their own account. Driven by my need to be safe.

I was so desperately determined to get out of that room, that prison that I actually managed to move the table over to the mattress. I honesty have no memory of how I got the table placed onto the mattress; the exhaustion had been too great.

At one point I was crouching on the table, clinging to the edges until my knuckles turned white, the chair next to me on the floor. I lifted it up, placing it wobbly onto the firm surface of the table and pushing myself up with it. Everything shook and skidded. I was incredibly dizzy. Stolidly, I lifted my gaze towards my exit, digging my fingernails into the window ledge. I knew that I wouldn't get up again if I fell down.

While I was walking out on the streets in the middle of a city that I couldn't remember and my knees weakened, I found myself thinking the exact same thing: _I won_ _'_ _t get up if I fall down now._ But I still haven't found her. "Jules." I whispered with a raspy throat when in fact I wanted to scream loud enough so she would hear me. "Jules, where are you?"

With all of my adrenaline fueled strength I had pushed myself up, so that I was standing on the chair and finally on eye level with the window. I didn't know how far down it would go on the other side. I didn't care.

With my elbow I banged against the window pane – over and over – until it cracked and broke. Clearing out all the edges, I stuck my head through the opening and took a deep breath of fresh air. Determination increased. I wanted out. Whatever the cost.

Sticking my arms out first, I leaned over the edge. The chair beneath my feet wobbled. I grasped for something to hold onto, but only found the rough outside wall of the building. I leaned down, wiggling forward until I noticed that I couldn't move at all. Neither forth nor back. The window frame clung tightly around my ribcage. I couldn't breathe. My sight swam and I was getting limper by the second. Blood rushed to my head. I was sweating. At the verge of unconsciousness my upper body suddenly had enough weight to pull me down.

It happened very fast. A startled suck of air, then the hard ground. I certainly laid down there for several minutes, before I came to my senses again and got to my feet. Then I started walking straight ahead for what felt like an eternity now. With no clear destination, but a single name in my head.

 _Jules._

I blinked against the sun. I was lying on the ground. _When did I fall down?_ There was a shadow above me. A face. A young woman. Lightly, she patted my cheek. Her lips were moving. "Jules?" I said faintly. "Is it you?"

Rushing in my ears. The young woman was talking. She was calling someone on her phone. Her shadow disappeared from my view. "No." I grasped for her hand. "Help. Need… find… Jules." She looked down on me again, her dark eyes filled with concern. She was talking again. Pounding in my ears. My own heartbeat, drowning out all other sounds. Blurry vision. _I'_ _m losing it._ "Fi- ind J-Julesss."

My vision turned black.

* * *

…

 _Hospital._

 _I smelled disinfectant and cleanness. The room was white. Electronic devices gave off steady beeping noises._

I took deep breaths. _I'm alive_. Somehow this fact amazed me beyond belief. I couldn't remember why I shouldn't be alive. It was just a feeling that I could call myself happy that my eyes opened a few minutes ago.

 _Uneasiness_ was the next thing I felt. It seemed only logical that my wonder about my survival came from a previous brush with death. _Hospital._ It made sense.

But for the life of me I couldn't remember what happened before. What caused the near death experience. Nervously, I began looking around in my room. After all, it was possible that another human being was after me. _Maybe he or she is trying to find me to finish the job,_ I thought. _If only someone could explain to me what happened. Someone I can trust._ But there was nobody there. I was completely alone.

The uneasiness turned to fear. _I feel left alone. Left to die. Isn_ _'_ _t there anybody else around? Hello?! I_ _'_ _m still here! I_ _'m alive!_ My heart rate picked up. I began to feel truly unsafe. The more I thought about what could have happened before I ended up in hospital, the more I grew surer that I was trying to get away from something… or someone. A person who tried to hurt me. I twitched nervously. I had to get away from here. I had to find a safe place…

I stopped.

 _A safe place._

I furrowed my brows, when a faint clue of remembrance came to me. I had been looking for my safe place before I blacked out. I had been desperate to get to… someplace… to some _one._

 _My safe place is a person?_ _…_ _Yes, it_ is _a person. And I call her_ _…_

Darkness in my brain when I tried to remember. It's like picturing yourself in a pitch black room with a lighted match in search for a candle. I kept searching… and searching… and suddenly I found my candle, bathing the imaginary room in a soft, warm glow.

I flinched when the door opened suddenly. A nurse came in, looking as astonished to see me awake as I felt earlier.

 _Was she one of the people who hurt me?_

"There you are," she said. "I couldn't quite believe it when the heart monitor showed signs of you waking up."

I cautiously watched her every move while she was talking and studying the beeping devices I was attached to. When she came closer to me I flinched away.

"Oh, don't be afraid." She spoke softly and patiently refrained from getting any closer. "I'm your nurse. My name is Ella."

I continued to stare at her. "You… you don't want to hurt me?"

"No, of course not. Why do you think that I would want to hurt you?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. I feel like… I'm in danger. I… I can't remember why."

"Well, you're intuition is right. You had been in danger. It's a good thing that you feel that way, Mr. Spencer."

I listened up. _Mr. Spencer. That_ _'_ _s me. I_ _'_ _m Shawn Spencer._

"But I'm not the one you'd have to be worried about." she continued. "I was in charge of you during the whole time you were treated here. You first got here after you had been run off the street. I guess you're some kind of detective and criminals were chasing you. But you woke up with amnesia, that's why it's hard for you to remember."

I listened closely to the nurse's story. Pictures appeared in my mind as she spoke, but somehow I distanced myself from them. As if I was getting images from somebody else's life. I didn't feel much connection to them.

"Then you disappeared from the hospital and we've been looking for you for a whole week." Ella, the nurse, said. "Apparently you'd run into some bad people. When a pedestrian found you and called 911, you ended up getting treated for much worse than you had been after your car accident."

"What happened?" I questioned.

"I'm not sure yet." she answered. "It's a police thing. They won't tell anything until the case is closed. All I can say is that you clearly had been beaten and had trouble breathing. You were put in the ICU and only returned back to a normal room a few days ago. Given that you suffered from additional traumas to your head, nobody was sure if you'd wake up this time."

I gulped, noticing that my throat was sore and dry. _So I was right. I had been almost dead. Am I safe now?_ I tried to move my weak body, realizing for the first time that it hurt in several places. I winced and the nurse stilled my movements by putting a hand on my arm. I let her, but still eyed her suspiciously. "Am I still in danger?" I asked.

"Not that I'm aware of." she said. "As far as I know, those criminals were put behind bars and considering that you finally recovered enough to wake up, you're on your way to a full recovery, given time. You're also more aware of yourself than the last time you woke up in hospital. You remember more."

I gazed at her and my surroundings, finding absolutely nothing familiar. "You think? It really doesn't feel that way." I dropped my head and thick, uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"You know…" Ella said tentatively as the quietness stretched on. "The woman who made the emergency call told our paramedics that you repeated something over and over before you passed out. Maybe it'll help you to remember."

I looked up in curiosity.

"You said you want to find 'Jules'."

 _Jules._

My eyes widened in recognition. _Her name!_ _My candle in the pitch black room. My warmness. My safe place._

"Jules!" I exclaimed, jerking up into a sitting position, groaning and falling back into the cushion again when my chest and stomach radiated pain into the rest of my body.

"Easy, you're not fully healed yet." Ella reminded me.

"I-I want to see her." I said through clenched teeth, riding out the waves of pain. "Do you know her? Is she here?" Despite the discomfort, I was excited enough to try to get up once more.

"I _do_ know her." The nurse calmed me. Observing my reaction closely, she also added, "And she knows you, too. She is worried about you."

I had to admit I was still confused and wasn't sure who exactly Jules was, but that didn't matter. "I have to see her." I said. "I trust her. I… I know that I'm safe with her."

"Okay, very well then." Ella nodded. "I will tell her that you're ready to see her. This might take a bit, though. So don't you dare trying to walk around yet, Mr. Spencer."

I promised to behave and she promised to hurry. Nervously, I clenched the thin white cover draped over me in my hands. Soon I would get answers.

 _Finally._

I felt like I didn't really exist for a very long time. Like the world kept turning without me. Like coming into the cinema when the movie's almost over. Like the only black lead on a major cable network… _Huh?_

 _Who would that Jules be and what will she tell me?_

* * *

 **Haha, had to throw a 'Gus, don't be...' line in there. Who caught it? ;)**

 **So, Shawn's adventures _might_ be over, but the adventures of his mind are just about to begin... **


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm soooo sorry for the long wait! I hope this chapter will make it up to you. After all, it has some long-awaited Shules time! ;)  
**

 **Thanks to AgentMorganB-006, Lizard21 and Rock Mint Swirl for your awesome reviews! Keep them coming, guys! :)**

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Chapter 8:

The door to my room opened slowly, revealing a thin, blonde woman with skin as white as a ghost's. Her shivering was visible from head to toe and she tried to calm her trembling hands by kneading them in front of her body. She stared at me in absolute silence and amazement. I think she didn't even dare to breathe.

 _How could I feel safe with such a shadow of a person? Something is clearly wrong with her._

She didn't say a word and although she looked as if she would like nothing more than to run over to me, she stayed rooted in her spot, shaking, with tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.

"Are… Are you Jules?" I asked her tentatively.

Immediately her eyes filled up with more tears that spilled down over her cheeks. She couldn't even move to wipe them away. She just nodded vigorously.

"Are you okay?" I asked shyly. "Why are you crying?"

"Oh…" she said, and the trembling of her form increased. "I'm crying 'cause I was worried like crazy about you. I was afraid that you wouldn't be lucky this time and that I would never see you again."

"Oh… okay." I said. She still wasn't moving. "I, uhm… I remember you… as being my safe place. That's the only thing I knew for sure during all this… all this time." I continued, silently wondering how long 'all this time' was. "I don't know why. I was able to calm down when I thought of your name." I had hoped saying those nice things to her would make her stop crying, but the tears ceaselessly kept running down her pale face.

"You're my safe place, too." Jules said, her voice quivering and breaking so much that I almost didn't get what she was saying.

Shocked, I realized that her breathing quickened as she continued to shiver violently, looking like she was trying very hard to keep a panic attack at bay. I blinked rapidly and opened my arms towards her without thinking, not wanting her to feel frightened.

She took one quick step towards my bed, before stopping and looking horrified again. Her eyes searching mine for any kind of doubt. "Uhm, if I'm your safe place… wouldn't it make you feel better if you come closer?" I asked.

That broke down the invisible wall between us. With three quick strides she was by my side, burying her teary face on my shoulder while wrapping her arms around my body, hugging me fiercely but carefully.

I winced, but she didn't notice. Tentatively, I closed my arms around her small body and hugged her back. Her sobbing shook her, but I held her steady, not breathing a word.

Slowly, she seemed to calm down, but her fingers still clasped into the thin fabric I was wearing. I became more aware of her presence and the smell radiating from her silky, blonde hair. Charily, I moved my head to hide my nose in her soft locks, inhaling deeply. I smelled peaches and vanilla and warmness.

 _That_ _'s Jules. My Juliet._

I inhaled memories.

Memories of how her hair tickled my nose when I'm lying next to her in bed. Memories of how she would brush strands of hair from her face when the tight knot she wore to work loosened. Memories of how good she smelled when she returns from the shower.

I knew her suddenly. Not everything about her, but I knew that I was close to her, that I trusted her, yes, maybe even loved her.

Abruptly, I ended our hug and she looked frightened when I pushed her back to look into her face. "I just remembered some things… about you." I added timidly. "Good things." I said when she still frowned in worry.

"What?" she asked in a whisper.

"I remembered that I like the smell of your hair." I answered truthfully. Her smile brought the color back into her face.

"You're different… from the last time you woke up." Jules said. "Back then you didn't want me to come near you."

I looked into my lap. "I'm sorry." I mumbled. "I wish I could remember you more clearly."

She moved to take my hands in her smaller ones. "Don't be sorry. You were scared. I was too overbearing. I made you run away."

I swallowed because I couldn't say without a doubt that she was wrong. I couldn't recall what made me leave the safe haven that was the hospital in the first place. I watched how her hands massaged mine, how delicately and tenderly she stroked my skin. How soothing it felt. "No," I said and looked up into her sad face. "I don't think you made me run away. Maybe I had been paranoid… or maybe just stupid. I don't care right now. The important thing is that I'm here now and that I want to know more about you. Just… skip the bad parts of the past for me, okay?"

She chuckled.

 _Good God, I made her chuckle!_

"I'd love that." she said.

The door opened and closed once more. "I'm sorry to interrupt." a woman in a white lab coat said busily. "The nurse just informed me that you woke up and I had to check in on you." She came closer to the couple on the bed, extending her hand to her patient. "Hello again, I'm Dr. Martin. We've met before."

Warily, I looked at Jules and her reaction to the disturbance and then took the hand hesitantly when I could only see mild annoyance but no fear in her face. "Hi." I said.

"I'm glad that you're back in our medical care. You truly had us worried, Mr. Spencer. I guess you're not recognizing me or your name, do you?"

"Uhm, you, no. But I… I know that I'm Shawn Spencer."

"Oh, that's good. Very good." Dr. Martin said, surprised. "Your level of recollection is very special compared to other patients that had gone through similar troubles."

"Oh, okay. Uhm, thank you… I guess?" I said, confused.

Jules took over. "Doctor, what does that mean in relation to his memory?"

"Well," Dr. Martin sighed. "I meant to tell you this right before you single-handedly decided to leave against medical advice, but since you woke up again and can remember more than before, I think it's safe to say that your amnesia is most likely only temporary."

My eyes got as big as saucers and Jules breathed in next to me. She grasped my hand tighter.

"What, really? Is this really possible?" she gasped.

"Yes." The doctor confirmed. "It can't be excluded that he might have to relearn things, maybe a lot of things," she addressed me now. "But the tests we did before you ran away suggest that your memories are not completely lost. They're still there, beneath the surface, you just have to figure out a way to make them available to you."

I looked at the red-headed lady entirely flabbergasted. After all I've obviously been through, after all my fear and pain and near-death experiences I've had to endure, it now turned out to have been completely in vain? "I-I don't understand this." I stammered. "I don't know anything. I just know that I was running away from something terrifying and that being close to this woman…" I nodded at Jules. "Makes me feel… calm. I barely even know my own name. How can I remember my whole _life_?"

"Well, for starters, you just need to give it some time." the doctor said. "Be patient. You already remembered more than most people would in this state, but as I already said, the way you process your memories is very special. Your wi-, I mean, Juliet told us that you have a photographic memory and it still seems to be there. That's why it will most likely cause you a great deal of pain to remember. There'll be a lot of details raining down on you at once."

I noticed her slip-up. She wanted to say 'wife'. Jules was my _wife_. I should've known. That's the reason I feel so close to her. _How could I forget her?_

 _There are her eyes shining happily behind a veil. Her hands holding mine, slipping on the ring. The beach. The Sun. Many, many people_ _…_

I remembered and I immediately knew what the doctor meant when she said it would hurt. Caught by surprise at the amount of pictures that appeared suddenly in my head, I grasped Jules' hand tighter, squeezing my eyes shut. But that didn't blend out the flashing of memories.

"Shawn, what's wrong?" Jules asked, her worry flaring up once more.

When I only groaned in response, Dr. Martin spoke up. "I believe he just remembered something and that's exactly what I meant. Subconsciously the memories are all there; what he needs is a trigger to make them available. I'd advise you to speak as much as possible with your family and friends, Mr. Spencer, _once_ you're feeling up for it." she stressed. "Just note that you might experience strong migraines and definitely shouldn't overdo your cognitive functions."

"My what?" I questioned, puzzled at the big words.

"I just meant that you shouldn't try to remember too much at once. It could cause your brain to shut down and then you'll have to start all over again."

"Oh, great. And how can I stop the memory floods once the gates are open?" I wanted to know, because even though we've moved on from the topic, I can still see Jules in my head in a wedding dress and my brain kept adding more and more details.

"I'll help you." Jules said quickly. The excitement in her voice and features was clearly visible. "We'll figure out a way."

"Oh, one more thing." Dr. Martin remembered as she was moving to leave again. "During the brain tests I supervised, the pictures that were shown to you indeed triggered unconscious reactions, whereas the part of your brain which controls feelings showed very little action. I suppose it must feel to you like you're getting memories of another person's life?"

I pondered about her question, thinking back how I woke up and remembered that I had been on run. I figured that I must have been scared, but somehow I felt disconnected from it anyway. The pictures from my wedding day that were still moving and forming in my brain were just that. Pictures. Like watching a blurry video cassette from someone else's ceremony. While I did recognize that I was looking at the moving pictures through my own eyes, the protagonist was the Old-me, not the Now-me.

"I… I'm not sure… what I feel." I finally said. Instantly, I sensed Jules' disappointment radiating from her. "But there's something about you…" I looked into her blue eyes. "I-I don't know how to explain this. It's a… a warm feeling. I know that I can trust you."

Jules swallowed and put up a brave smile.

"Well, that's a starting point, Mr. Spencer. Hold on to that feeling." Dr. Martin said. "I can't tell you for sure if your emotions connected to the memories will come back, but if you spend time with your family, over time, you may find a way to dissolve that emotional blockade."

Jules looked from me to the doctor, nodding slightly at her. "Okay… uhm, thanks for your help, Dr. Martin." She nodded back and wished me a speedy recovery.

We were alone once again and Jules' presence weighed heavy in my heart. _In a good kind of way,_ I convinced myself to believe. We gazed into each other's eyes and I could tell that she was attempting to hide all of her worries immediately.

"Did you hear that?" Jules smiled encouraging. "You're going to be fine."

"Yeah… maybe." I said, pondering in silence. "You know, the nurse told me that before I ran away from here I had been in better condition than now." I looked at the scrapes running up and down my arms and the raw skin on my wrists and hands. "I… I can't help but think that maybe if I hadn't run away the chance of me remembering you could have been higher. I mean, who knows, maybe I had already remembered you and then I got beaten up and now all of it is gone again."

She put her hand to my cheek. First I froze… then I realized how upset and paranoid I'd become during my speech and how her hand cupping my face so gently settled me down. I let her proceed.

"Shh, don't panic." she spoke soothingly. "I, uhm, I thought about that, too." She swallowed. "Physically… they might have hurt you, but you only grew stronger emotionally. I don't know if… if you know, but apparently you only escaped them, because you remembered me and you were looking for me and…" Her voice broke slightly. "And that gives me all the hope I need. You will remember. I know it."

Warily, I observed the quivering of her lips and the tear that threatened to fall from the corner of her right eye. I covered her hand which still lingered on my cheek with caution and I felt the ring beneath my fingertips. When the lonely tear rolled down, I moved her hand to my lap and in return reached for her cheek with my other hand to wipe away the wetness. She smiled that brave smile again.

"I wish I had your confidence." I said quietly. "We're married and I forgot you. How could you ever fully forgive me for that?"

"Don't be silly. It's not your fault." she said. "Tell me, what did you remember just now when Dr. Martin accidentally revealed that I'm your wife?"

 _She is dancing in a white dress. She_ _'_ _s happy. I kiss her._

"Our wedding day." I said. "The more I think about it the clearer it gets, but it doesn't feel like _my_ wedding, it's like—"

"Not yet." Jules interrupted me. "Just… have faith and… please, don't give up on me after all that has happened."

Her big, blue eyes pleadingly stared into mine. As if she was looking right into my soul, reaching for something that would have made me agree with everything she said. "Okay… I promise." After a short pause of warm silence I added, "So… let's catch up then. Tell me everything."

"Are you're sure you're ready? You did just wake up…" Jules reminded me.

"No, I'm good." I assured her quickly. "You made me all curious. I want to know about you. I want to know why we got married and what we do and… just… _everything_." I pledged to her eagerly. She chuckled again. I liked the sound of it.

"Shawn, if you really want to do this now then I have to fulfill a promise, too." Upon my puzzled expression she explained further. "You have a family, Shawn. It's not as big as most families are, but there are more than just me. Your dad…" She sighed. "Your dad is sick with worry about you. He practically climbed up the walls 'cause he hasn't been able to see you yet since you've been conscious, given your photographic memory. It might have been too much to handle if you suddenly remember all about him."

"My dad…?" I mumbled in thoughts. _Why have I never thought about him until now?_

 _A stern glance from icy blue-grey eyes. Cautious, suspicious. Motorcycle. Anger. Away from dad. Far away._

"I can see him." I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut once again and involuntary putting my hands to my temples. That movement alone triggered even more pictures. There is the flood I feared.

"Shawn. Shawn!" Jules called louder, gripping my hands and positioning her face directly in front of mine.

 _Warmness._ I opened my eyes, stared into her face. Taking a few deep breaths, I was able to calm down again. But now she was clearly uncertain.

"Maybe you should wait for another day or two, you're not ready for—"

"No, no, I can do this!" I protested quickly. "I want to do this. I want to meet him… even though I'm pretty certain that I'll regret it afterwards." I mumbled more quietly.

She gave me a long and worried look. "Just so you know, whatever you just remembered, your dad loves you. Sometimes it's just hard for him to show it."

"Got it. Bring him in." I said.

"Shawn, what if it's too much for your brain? I don't want this to backfire in the worst way possible." Jules pondered, chewing on her bottom lip.

"It won't. This memory was good. Painful but good, because now my head is swarmed with pictures and I can't understand them. I-I have to understand them before they're fading out again. Please…" Desperately, I took both of her hands again. "Please, I want to remember."

"Okay." She sighed, but nodded in that brave way she owned. "Okay. I'll tell him."

Her small hands slipped out of mine as she got up to walk towards the door and somehow I instantly felt colder with every step she took away from me. Insecurities arose. _Can I even do this without her?_ "Wait." I exclaimed and she stopped and turned around. "Uhm, will you… will you be in the same room with me when I talk to him?"

"I wish I would, but I promised that he can speak alone with you. You deserve to talk to everyone openly and face to face." Jules said. "But I promise you that I won't go away. I'll wait right behind that door and if you need me, I'm here for you, okay?"

"O-Okay." I nodded, but obviously she sensed my nervousness.

"You don't have to be scared, Shawn." Jules said softly. "You said that you trust me. And believe me, I would trust every person who's waiting outside this room with my life. You can ask them everything you want to know."

"Okay." I repeated with more confidence. Jules nodded and continued to head for the door. "Jules?" I asked again.

"Yes?"

"Just so we're clear… and because I don't think that it would make a good impression as a husband… I'm not scared, you know."

She smiled brightly. "Of course not. I'll send Henry in now."

* * *

 **So... what do you think? :) Please let me know and review, review, review...  
**

 **Father/son bonding time is coming up. I try not to take as long as I have for this chapter. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here's the next one... happy reading to you all! :)**

 **cosette141, this one's especially for you, haha ;)**

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Chapter 9:

I didn't know how to react when the elderly bald man came in. His face was furrowed with deep lines of worry, which stood out even more because of his tanned skin. I thought he didn't look like me at all, though he greeted me with earnest concern in his voice.

"Shawn, how are you feeling, son?" He smiled briefly, hurrying over to my bed then stopping and rubbing his palms together nervously. It appeared as if he didn't really know what to do with himself.

"Hi, uh… dad. I'm fine, actually. I'm ready to get to know myself." I said. The man Jules had called Henry, nodded. His hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out to hug me or lay a comforting hand on my shoulder. At least I supposed that's what we do as father and son. But oddly enough, Henry couldn't bring himself to actually do it.

"Good… uhm, you-you don't have to call me 'dad' if you're feeling uncomfortable… I mean, it would be nice, but we could stick with Henry, if you… if you don't…"

He drifted off again and I sensed his frustration and uncertainty at how to handle this whole situation. _So we do have something in common after all._ I could exactly understand how he felt. "No, it's okay, dad." I said, forcing myself not to let my hesitation show this time. "I hope to trigger some memory flashes by acting as if nothing has happened."

"So, it's true then? You don't remember anything about me?" he asked.

I briefly considered telling him about that one dark and angry thought that was still floating around somewhere in my mind, but decided against it, reminding myself what Jules had said about my father: _"_ _Your dad loves you. Sometimes it's just hard for him to show it." Okay, let's try a fresh start then_ , I thought. "No, nothing… I'm sorry." I added after a short pause.

The apology made his eyes pop open and he stared at me in awe. I just detected that his eyes looked a bit watery when he did something utterly unexpected.

"Well, then screw it." he muttered and grabbed my shoulder tightly. He came closer and pulled my head flush against his chest.

My first impulse was to panic and fight him. But his other hand came resting upon my hair, which was sticking out from the bandage around my head, and he ruffled through it tenderly. I remained absolutely still and let him hold me for full five seconds before he released me, sniffing once and quickly wiping over his left eye.

As quickly as this emotional outburst came it also disappeared. As if he was pulling up a mask, the lines on his face straightened again and he cleared his throat. I stared at him still slightly befuddled and noticed that there were no memories whatsoever stirring in my brain.

"We don't do this often." I bluntly voiced my thoughts.

Henry snorted quietly. "You're right. We don't. But we should… at least if we were more emotional types of people." He smiled. "What I meant to say is… I missed you, kid."

I smiled briefly, wanting to return that sentence, but, of course, I didn't know what to miss. Instead I attempted to fish for some more information about the angry memory. "Why don't we, uhm, hug more often? I mean, is it just because you and me don't like to show emotions… or is there something else?"

There was a spark in his attentive, blue-grey eyes, a keen sense of suspicion. "Why do you ask that?"

"Well, obviously, to get to know you better. What else?" I said, a little offended, and crossed my arms.

Henry smiled. "Shawn, you might not remember me, but I know you. You're my son. I know it when you're hiding something. Even if you're not doing it on purpose." He nodded at my arms. "You just struck a defensive pose and when you asked me why we don't hug, you didn't even look me in the eyes. Like you already suspected that there's more behind it."

Sullenly, I kept my arms crossed and my gaze down.

"You do remember something, am I right?" A pause. "What is it, son? You can tell me. I can assure you, whatever you remembered, it's in the past now and not only because you forgot, but also because we're getting along these days. We really are."

Another pause, then I looked up into his eyes again. Although his were blue, I suddenly recognized my own eyes in them. I remembered looking into a mirror. _Bandage around the head and a striking pair of green eyes staring right back at me. They're as observant as mine._

An overwhelming feeling of trust came with that realization. _He truly is my father_. If there had been any hidden, unconscious doubt about that fact, it was now dispelled once and for all. "I remembered you when Jules told me that you were worried." I blurted out. "I wondered why I hadn't thought about you earlier and there it was… I-I can't tell you exactly what happened. Everything had been so fast and blurry. I just know that I was angry… with you and I… I ran away."

Henry's face darkened. Not with anger but with sadness. "And that is your only memory of me?"

I felt bad for nodding. "Yeah, apparently so. But only until now. You can tell me things. You can tell me what happened back then, right?"

"I can… and I will, kid. Even though it could push you away from me again." Henry said.

I shook my head, but stopped again quickly when I noticed that it made me dizzy. "It won't. I promise I will hear you out, but I need to start from somewhere. Plus, I really want to know what happened now." I looked at him expectantly. He sighed eventually and repositioned himself on a plastic chair next to my bed. Obviously this was going to be a long story.

"You were eighteen…" He started. "And you just bought that death trap you call a motorcycle. The same one that put you in the hospital in the first place, by the way…"

Merciless but honest, my dad told me what brought me to hate him in the days of my youth. It wasn't pretty. Often times I couldn't help but hear the accusing, lecturing tone in Henry's voice and had to hold back so I wouldn't defend myself – or my old self for that matter – but just listen to him. The longer he talked, the better I began to understand why our relationship didn't seem to be easy.

Apparently, we both were extremely stubborn men. I constantly felt like I had to disagree with him and defend the person that I was back then, because I could see what made me angry. He told me about the photographic memory that I obviously called my own and about the games he forced me to play as a child to sharpen these senses. But his methods seemed questionable. He was very stern and unrelenting.

Even now, after his recollection of my youth didn't make me remember a great deal, he tried to find out what exactly triggered my memory floods. I was okay with him trying, after all I was curious myself. Upon giving me some plain key words, which, to him, used to mean something but obviously not to me anymore, he asked me something weird.

"Shawn, how many hats are in this room?"

I scrunched my brows in confusion. "What?" I asked, smirking a little about the stupidity of this question.

"You heard me, Shawn. Close your eyes and tell me." Henry said and suddenly got a no-nonsense look that made it hard for me to disobey.

"Uhm… is this some kind of inside joke I don't get? Or are you in fact a deranged resident of the local old-people's home?" I chuckled a bit about my own gag, but his answer was nothing like I expected.

"Shawn, get your head in the game. Why is this always a joke to you?" Henry scolded me. But upon my baffled expression, he winked.

Slowly, I began to understand what he was trying to do. I told him that I wanted to act like nothing had happened and this… this conversation truly seemed oddly familiar to me. Like we already argued for that exact reason a billion times before. Him lecturing me about my inability to take life seriously. _Wow, where did that come from?_ "W-What do you want from me… dad?" I asked attentively once more.

Henry came closer, staring right into my soul. "I want you to listen. How many hats are in the room, Shawn?"

I blinked several times and then I had to close my eyes to concentrate wholly on my mind's eye.

 _I entered a diner. They had delicious cupcakes. The '_ _Exit_ _' sign above the door was broken and the waitress' name was Marie. The same question:_ _"_ _Shawn, how many hats are in this room?" Hats, caps and beanies. Dad. Stern blue eyes. A white house with red window frames. A white picket fence. Me, wrestling with a young dark-skinned boy in the backyard. Dad in uniform. Police uniform. Police station. Handcuffs and a prison cell. A gothic girl and a stolen car. Anger. A roaring motorcycle. Dad._

A strong hand gripped my arm. "Shawn. Shawn. Come on, look at me, kiddo."

I blinked quickly, groaning in agony when the harsh light that pierced my eyes added to my nausea and dizziness.

"It's okay. Keep them closed, just listen to my voice then." Henry said. "You're in the hospital. The memories are just in your mind, you can space them out any time you want. They're in the past. Try focus on your breathing."

I did what he told me, while gripping his hand as my anchor to reality so the mass of memory bits wouldn't tear my brain apart. I breathed in… and out… in… and out.

"Good. See, you're in control." Henry's voice spoke to me softly. "Now open your eyes. You can do it, Shawn."

I blinked again. Carefully squinting at him. His face was still unmoving and calm, but his eyes shone with worry. _His eyes are not the same as in my memories. Not as stern. Not as frustrated. But instead filled with pride and love._

"Hey, are you alright?" Henry asked.

"Yeah… just kinda thought for a second that my brain would explode." I gasped, exhausted from the flood of pictures. They were still there, in the back of my mind. Still keeping me updated on everything I needed to know about Henry. But I was able to concentrate on him, standing before me in real life. "You're a cop." I said finally.

He smiled. "I used to be. Well, I still am, but not on the force."

"You arrested me when I was younger and that made me angry and I ran away." I said.

"That's true." His face fell. "I think at that time… it was the best for both of us that you left. It gave you the freedom you always sought and you were finally able to make your own experiences. However stupid they may have seemed to me."

I chuckled dryly. "But I came back, obviously. And then we reconciled?" I asked.

"Well, it wasn't that easy in the beginning and I would be fooling myself if I said you came back and stayed for me."

"What was it, then?" I wondered. "Was it… Jules?" Bashfully, I lowered my voice for the last word.

Henry smiled. "Not from the very start, I guess. You met her at work and stayed because for once you thought you could use your skills and your mind in a way that was amusing to you and frustrating to me and that excited you more than it probably should."

"My mind? You mean that… that photographic memory thing?" When he nodded, I added, "How did I use it?"

Henry laid a hand upon my arm and looked at me seriously. "Brace yourself, son. What I tell you now will definitely trigger some memories."

I raised my brows. "Wow, way to make things dramatic, dad. What did I do? Read the future?" I meant it as a joke and snickered. However, Henry's reaction made me stop instantly as he stared at me with wide eyes.

"Yeah, you did."

I cocked my head. "Say what?"

"At least that's what you told everybody…" Henry added. "That you can… 'read' the future and sense things in the past, while in fact you were just able to remember things very clearly and piece together a wild theory that nobody believes in but eventually turns out to be true." Henry shook his head in amazement. "I still can't believe how you get away with that every single time."

"I… what?" I interrupted him in confusion. I understood the kernel of what he was saying, but I wasn't sure if I liked it very much. _I lie? To whom? Where do I work? And just how ironic is it that I used to remember everything and now I remember nothing?_ "I-I think you have to get a little more specific than that. Am I… am I a fraud?"

The first pallid pictures. _A room with no windows, but a two-way mirror. A lie detector. A sour-looking man whose demeanor screamed '_ _cop_ _'._ And suddenly, there was also a clear voice for the first time. _"…nothing but a fraud. I know your act, Spencer."_

"The police." I gasped almost inaudible. "I lie to the police."

Henry forced me to look at him as he said, "You claim that you're psychic, son."

 _Yep, that's it. That's definitely a key word for one of my memory flood-gates,_ I thought before the gate burst open with a bang and thousands of loud, colorful, moving pictures and a plethora of different voices spilled out into my consciousness.

 _A window front with light-green lettering,_ _"_ _Our own private detective agency", A cat, a s_ _é_ _ance, a man with a fake beard,_ _"_ _I'm good at this", a framed newspaper article._ _"_ _Psychic solved mystery", two desks, a small blue car,_ _"_ _I think I solved the case", My hand to my head, running, screaming, a dark-skinned man at my side,_ always _at my side._ _"_ _Gus, don_ _'t be a gooey chocolate-chip-cookie", explosions, hiding, a museum, a mummy…_

The voices were too loud. I fell back into my cushions, eyes firmly closed, muscles tensed until the point of pain. _Too many pictures._ "Dad, make it stop! _Please_ , make it stop!"

 _Guns aimed at me, men in military uniforms, men with dragon tattoos on their necks, a woman with curly black hair and an empty stare,_ _"_ _Shawn, I knew you'd come",_ Mom, _mom and a bomb, Jules on a clock tower. Jules in heels. A man with salt and pepper hair._ _"Dammit_ _Spencer."_

My heart rate spiked up, my breath came in short, sharp gasps, my head… _holy crap, my head…_

 _Lie detector,_ _"_ _deal with the fact that I love her", a party, a weird bald guy with white powder around his mouth, a gunshot, the forest, more running, more shouting, pain in my left shoulder, dad in the hospital, I lift the gun against an old man, Jules, she's there…_

The pain ebbed away suddenly. My muscles relaxed and I was floating. Pictures were getting blurrier and pale… and dark… everything got dark… finally, quietness. The pictures were still there, but I got tired… so tired… too tired to watch…

Hands gripped my hands.

"What happened?"

"He couldn't stop it. I panicked. They gave him something."

"Shawn, I'm here. I'm right here with you."

"You can relax now. You're fine. I'm sorry, kid."

The voices became dull and I drifted off.

* * *

 **Keep revieeeewing! :D  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey there, you lovely readers! Thank you sooo much for your awesome reviews and follows! It means so incredibly much to me that you all still reading this! :D**

 **So as a thank you, here's an extra long chapter. Now it's Gus' turn...  
**

* * *

Chapter 10:

My eyelids fluttered open. I stared at the white ceiling and gasped. It was like waking up from a bad dream. A chaotic dream, that left the head full of afterimages. A little confusion spread, because I didn't remember what happened before I obviously fell asleep, but when a soft hand caressed my arm and I looked into her worried face, it all came back.

"Shawn? Are you with me?" she asked tentatively, her forehead creased.

I smiled tiredly. "Hi, Jules."

She returned the smile. "Oh, thank God. I thought you… I-I don't think I could have go through that all over again."

"I'm fine." I said and yawned. "How long was I asleep?"

"Almost twenty-four hours straight." said another voice.

Looking at the end of my bed, I recognized him immediately. "Dad." I said.

"Yeah, kid, I'm here." he said with a sigh of relief. "You had us worried again."

"Why, what happened?" I asked and struggled to prop myself up to look at my visitors. I flinched when my stomach and arm muscles started throbbing painfully. Jules offered me her soothing hands, but I managed to sit up straighter on my own.

"Just like Dr. Martin said, your brain went into overload." Henry explained. "You weren't able to stop remembering until the nurses came and gave you something to calm you down and make you sleepy. You're still on pretty strong meds. We hope that's the only reason you slept this long."

"You had a lot to process." Jules added. "The doctor said if you're able to remember us when you wake up it's a good sign. It means that you're now able to access your memories."

I nodded in comprehension, but she still frowned. "So, why do you look unhappy that I'm able to remember?" I asked.

"I'm not unhappy." Jules assured me, covering my hand with hers and gave it a squeeze. "It's just… It's hard to see you like this. You're so still and quiet and I think in total you've been inside this hospital for the better part of a month now, minus the week when you ran away. But I'm constantly worrying about you, hoping and praying that you'll still be Shawn the next time you wake up. Praying that you _will_ wake up. It's… it's terrifying."

She'd started crying again. First she fought very hard to keep it all back, but eventually Henry laid a hand on her back, making her break down and openly sob. In slight panic I looked at my father. He gave me a small, calm nod and stepped back as I opened my arms for her.

Crouching awkwardly on the side of my bed, she nudged her face into my shoulder and I hugged her tenderly. Her arms sneaked around my waist…

 _Her arms sneaked around my waist from behind, gripping tightly for dear life. Her head on my shoulder, squealing in my ear to slow down as I took the next curve too tightly. She laughed, despite her fear._ _"Don_ _'_ _t be scared. Just hold on to_ _me and never let go._ _"_

I inhaled sharply as I remembered. The memory had been clearer. Slower. _Is that due to the medication? Does it make my brain slower?_ Over her shoulder I looked at Henry again, who recognized the look on my face. I knew he was curious to hear what I just saw in my head, but I concentrated back on her, repeating the line that I heard Other-Me say. "Don't… Don't be scared. Just hold on to me… and never let go."

Slowly, she lifted her head, tears streaking her red face. "W-What did you just say?"

"Uhm…" I cleared my throat and blushed a bit when I briefly glanced at Henry again, who politely acted like he wasn't interested at all. "I said, 'don't be scared. Just hold on to me and never let go.'"

"Oh, Shawn." she whispered, cupping my cheek. "Do you remember when you used to say that?"

"I, uhm, I'm not sure. I think we were on my motorcycle…" I looked at her, waiting for her to fill in the blanks.

"Every single time that you had sweet-talked me into a ride on your motorcycle and I begged you to slow down, you said those exact words to me. Every single time I miraculously felt safer after you've said it, although you weren't slowing down one bit. I just knew you would take care of me. Whatever might happen."

The way she said those words, so softly and longingly, made me realize how much I meant to her. How much she wanted me to feel better, so that I could feel it too and reflect those feelings back to her. _She_ _'_ _s hugging me, but she_ _'_ _s still hugging an empty shell that needs to fill up with her memories._ _I need to remember all of her_ now _!_

I smiled to hide my insecure thoughts. "That sounds wonderful. Uhm, hey, how about we just keep talking. Let's see what else I'll remember." Jules and Henry exchanged a look. "What?" I asked.

"Are you sure you can handle it yet, kid?" Henry asked hesitantly. "We'll have enough time to catch up once you're fully healed. There's no need to rush."

 _Yes, there is! Maybe I won_ _'_ _t be able to feel if I_ _'_ _m waiting too long,_ I thought. Out loud I said, "I'm sure. I feel rested and I'm ready for new information. Just keep talking. About that police thingy and about my work. I work as a psychic. You see, I remember and there's no headache. Oh, can we talk about that black man that I—"

"Shawn, listen to me." Henry harshly cut off my rambling. "The doctor reminded us once again that you shouldn't overexert yourself or this could backfire very badly. When you remembered all that stuff yesterday, you begged me to make it stop. Remember that?"

I did. In the blink of an eye I saw those bits and pieces of my newly refreshed memory again, the pictures racing by like a film on fast forward. _There still there. Dad_ _'s pictures._

"You were in so much pain it was a horror to watch, son, and I'm sorry I caused it, but please, make sure you're resting enough before meeting someone new, okay?"

"I _am_." I replied quickly. "I _am_ rested and you don't have to apologize, because I _chose_ to talk to you. I'm ready to go again, I promise." My words seemed to have been too desperate. Too quick. Again, Jules and my father looked at each other knowingly. _What did they know? What are they thinking?_ "What is it?" I asked them aloud.

Jules took my hands, squeezing them tightly with hers. "Shawn, please believe us, we really understand how you must feel right now. You never liked hospitals. You always wanted out because of the control the doctors had over you and because you couldn't stand the pity you received from every visitor that came by."

 _Is she reading my thoughts now?_ The way she was looking into my eyes, so intensely and concentrated, I almost assumed that she truly was able to do that.

"But this time it's not just a precaution that you stay here." she continued. "You seem to be getting better, but you're not quite out of the woods yet. If you want this to be over… if you want us to talk normally again, please hold out just a little while longer. Would you do that for me, Shawn?"

It was amazing and at the same time pretty scary how much control she had over me. I couldn't argue with her while she was looking at me like that. Those deep pools of her ocean blue eyes enchanted me mercilessly. _Who was the true psychic of us?_ "I… I guess I wouldn't mind… hanging out here for another day. But only one day!" I added quickly, taking a bit of power back into my hands.

"Okay." she agreed with great relief. "One day. And you promise me that you won't do anything stupid. No escape attempts, no sweet-talking the nurses so they'll make exceptions for you."

I grinned mischievously. "Are you sure you're not just jealous of all the attention I'm getting from them?"

For a moment she seemed taken aback by my comment, but then she just smiled slyly. "Just rest. And tomorrow we can introduce you to Gus."

 _Oh, that name. I heard it before in my thoughts. I saw him before in my memories_ _._

"You remember him, don't you?" Henry was again quick to notice.

Jules elbowed him. "Not now." she hissed and just like that, got him back in line, too.

 _What an amazing woman._

"Well…" Jules addressed me again. "Dr. Martin asked us to respect the visiting hours, so… I guess that means we have to leave now."

"Oh… okay." I said, trying to hide my disappointment. Spending time with her was nice.

"I won't go far. We both won't." Jules said, briefly glancing at Henry. "If you need me here just say so and I'll come back as quick as I can."

"Thanks." I smiled. "But I think I'll be fine for a few hours." I reassured her. "It's just…"

"What?" Jules asked with concern.

"I don't like Dr. Martin very much." I admitted.

"She's kind of bossy, huh." Jules agreed.

"Like an angry German shepherd dog, looking after her defenseless sheep."

Jules laughed. "I think she has to be like that. She's a brilliant doctor, who really knows her stuff and has a lot of responsibilities. If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't… well, you know." she finished meekly.

"Yeah… I know." I said, bringing the conversation to an end. She stood up from her place at the edge of my bed to let Henry come closer.

With a smile, he patted my shoulder. "Sleep tight, kid." he said and stepped aside.

Jules locked gazes with me for a long, silent moment, apparently thinking hard about something. Then she nodded almost unnoticeably as if she had come to a conclusion. I froze, dumbfounded, when she leaned down to press her lips against my cheek. Just below the bandage so I could feel the tingling sensation her kiss left behind on my skin.

"Bye." she whispered quietly. "Get well."

"Bye." I replied still somewhat shocked. She and my father left the room, but the warmness on my skin and all over my mind stayed.

 _What a beautiful woman._

* * *

I dropped my promise to _just rest_ an hour after they left.

 _I can_ _'t do_ nothing _._

And even that one hour seemed to stretch on forever. I dozed off for a bit and woke up even more restless than before. I actually tried to move around, but quickly gave up when my head spun as soon as I sat up further. _So, no exercises. Not yet._

Instead, I decided to think about Gus. Maybe I could get ahead of tomorrow's memory journey and prevent my brain from combusting. What I instantly felt when I thought about that name… that person, was a certain sense of familiarity. Like he was part of a family that I once knew, but now I couldn't quite imagine what his face looked like. Or like you knew someone in school and meet him twenty years later, but you can't recall his name even though he once was your best… best friend…

 _A dark-skinned boy with buttoned-up shirts tucked into his pants. Sitting in the classroom, hiding a spitball straw beneath his books. The young boy racing me with his bike and wins. Duct tape around our legs, running across the lawn, falling, tumbling. Gus by my side. Gus in the police car, holding his hands over my eyes so I wouldn_ _'_ _t see her fall_ _…_ _Who falls?_

Confused I came to reality again. My distracted wondering about who fell down made the memories stop. That was good, wasn't it? I was able to stop it. And that boy… that boy in my head, that's Gus. _Wow, I seem to have known him forever._ Jules' warmness spread over to his memories and I knew suddenly that he meant just as much to me as she did. _He'_ _s a constant. He_ _'_ _s loyal. I can trust him._

For the whole rest of the day I tried to conjure up another memory of him, but obviously I didn't find the right trigger. All that was left for me to do is waiting for him to tell me more. _Boy, I can_ _'_ _t wait to get to know him again._

* * *

He entered so cautiously and slowly it was as if he was scared he could set off a bomb with one false move. His spy-like slinking looked kind of funny so I grinned.

"Hi, Shawn. Uhm… it's me… Gu—"

"Gus." I cut him off and his reaction was gold. His eyes widened and his jaw slackened. Then he looked like he was about to start crying.

"You remember me?" he said trembling.

"Sorry, not really." I admitted, feeling bad when his tearfulness turned into earnest confusion. "Jules mentioned your name before she left yesterday."

"Shawn!"

 _That tone of voice. He used it many, many times before._

"How could you do that to me again?" he scolded. With tears still in his eyes, he came over to me and bent down to hug me tightly.

Slowly, I was getting used to that weird feeling that came when strange people hugged me. But his affection and the scolding that happened in the same moment left me slightly puzzled. _So, he wasn_ _'_ _t truly angry, was he?_ "Again?" I only asked.

"Yes… no, I mean… you know what I mean!" he sobbed frantically.

Too late he realized that I really didn't. New tears welled up in his eyes and I felt fear building up inside of me, overwhelmed by the situation.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Gus wailed. "I'm sorry. Of course you don't remember. You were acting almost normally just now and I forgot. Oh, Shawn, I'm so sorry."

His voice turned borderline shrill and if he didn't stop to take a breath, he would probably start to hyperventilate. His agitation jumped over to me and the fear within me turned into panic. Realizing that it wouldn't do any good if we both started to panic, I tried to swallow it down and address him steadily. "Hey, hey, you need to calm down, okay? Listen to me, Gus, you don't have to apologize. For anything, okay?"

His breathing started to sound less like he was choking and he looked into my eyes.

"If you start to panic, I'll start to panic, you know." I explained, barely able to contain the nervous tremble in my own voice. "If we're going to talk, I'll need you to be the calm one, okay? Can you do that for me, buddy?"

The wrinkles of his chocolate brown skin smoothed and he drew in a few deep breaths, forcing himself to stop crying. "Okay, I know. Sorry, I can do that." Gus said. "You were always the stronger one of us."

"Really?" I snorted sarcastically. "I don't feel very strong right now."

"You are." Gus protested firmly. "I always tried to tell myself otherwise, but the truth is I wouldn't have known what to do with myself growing up if it wasn't for you."

I nodded, blindly believing and trusting in every word he said. _He'_ _s family. I know he is. I can trust him._ "How long have we known each other?"

"Oh." Gus laughed. "Practically since birth. Honestly, as long as I can remember, there is you."

Guilt pierced me sharply in the chest, because I had forgotten so many years with that man, that friend. _Would I ever remember everything about him again?_ "So, then you must have a lot to tell." I said.

Gus nodded enthusiastically. "I have, uhm… gosh, where to begin?" He froze suddenly and looked at me seriously. "Just so you know, Henry and Jules have warned me not to overwhelm you. So, if you got even the slightest headache, I'll notice and we have to stop, okay?

"Oh, come on." I whined.

"I'm not discussing this with you right now, Shawn." Gus said. "You have to get better. I can't lose my best friend over this. I promise you I'll tell you everything, but you have to give it some time."

"Fine." I grumbled and noticed Gus smirking a bit.

"You know, this is kind of cool, actually. I don't know how much your father had already told you, but for my whole life I stood in your shadow and your perfect memory. You seemed to know everything and you tugged me along and I always followed your lead even though I wasn't even sure what was going on in your mind. And now for once, I'll get to be the one who knows." he grinned.

"Hey, no reason to get cocky. I do remember stuff." I said, crossing my arms in mock offense, but couldn't hide my smile. _If he used to follow me that means he trusted me just as much as I trusted him._ "I… I think I guessed that you're my friend—"

"Your _best_ friend." Gus pointed out.

"And that you played a very important role in my life. There are so many snippets of you in my head, but I can't quite… grasp them. There's so much…" _Dark-skinned boy, running through the hallways with me, away from a bully._ "School." I blurted out before the memory could fade again. "Tell me about our time in school together."

"Oh, okay. Well, on the first day we walked to school by ourselves, I had been late because of you…"

It was an exciting tale. Every new story was an adventure on its own. An adventure of two boys taking on against the whole world. In school it had been only him and me, because all the other kids thought we were freakish. For different reasons. Apparently, Gus was a geeky kind of guy and I was hyper. He reminded me how we developed our love for the 80s and how much I worshipped everything that had something to do with Curt Smith, Australian hair gel and pineapples.

The more he talked, the more I had to interrupt him because I was suddenly able to fill gaps myself. I realized I was laughing about the past Gus told me. I still didn't feel much but I could picture myself in that past and the images from my brain always blended in to the things he told me. Somehow, this wasn't as hard as my talk with Henry had been. This was easy and fun.

"Man, this is so much better than talking to my father." I said to Gus. "Everything was tense and serious and he kept telling me about that weird stuff I was able to do."

"I think you can still do that." Gus pondered. "When you woke up for the first time, before you… uhm, before you ran away, Jules told me you could tell the doctor what time it was even though the clock was in the hallway and not in your room. Apparently, you just saw it briefly."

I attempted to recall that moment, but came up blank. Skeptically, I looked at Gus. "You really think that photographic memory is still there, even though I forgot so much?"

"Haven't you listened to Dr. Martin? She told us over and over that she never experienced someone recollecting his memories this fast with a head injury like that. It's there, trust me."

 _I do,_ I thought. "Okay, then maybe you should tell me more about the things I do for a living. The psychic charade, right?"

"You mean the things _we_ do." Gus corrected. "We're equal partners. I'm telling you that now once and for all. Never forget it."

I cocked my head and raised my brows. "Ookay. So, you're claiming to be psychic, too?" I grinned smugly.

"No, I mean that we are both in this together, we both face danger and we both solve cases for the police." Gus argued passionately.

 _I must have struck a nerve._ "Okay, gee, relax. I get it, we're great." I surrendered.

"We are." Gus said finally, smiling with satisfaction.

He held out his fist for me. Apparently, without really thinking about it. But when he realized he froze. His fist also froze and I stared at it. Then, slowly, I raised my arm, formed a fist with my hand and bumped it against his. Without thinking.

When our knuckles collided, I gasped in surprise by the sheer amount of pictures that exploded simultaneously.

 _Gus and me fist-bumping. Gus and me saved by the police. We were facing men with guns, with rage in their eyes. Jules and that lanky guy. Handcuffs. Fist-bumps. Gus and me running. Gus and me screaming. Gus and me following a hooded guy around the streets. Gus and me. Gus and me. Gus and me. And Jules and-and the one, the policeman that looked like he ate a whole bag of Sour Patch Kids._ _"_ _Lassie! Hey, Lassie! Hi, old penguin from Happy Feet._ _"_

Screams pierced through the swirling hurricane of images. I welcomed them this time. I wasn't afraid. I knew it would hurt, but I had to know. I had to know more!

"—awn! Shawn! Can you hear me?"

I opened my eyes with a groan. Gus' finger was hovering over the call button. "No, wait!" I exclaimed, panting from mental exhaustion. "If you… if you call for a doctor they'll send you out and say that I need more rest… but that's not true, okay?" In contrary to the things I said I had to pause mid-sentence more than once, because Gus' face swam in front of my face and got replaced by the endless stream of memories again.

"You can't even see straight, Shawn." I heard Gus say.

"Can too!" I protested, rapidly blinking the pictures away. My head spun, nausea was threatening to overwhelm me. "Can too," I repeated sullenly again and squeezed my eyes shut to breathe through another wave of qualm. I felt his hands covering mine.

"Shawn, buddy, you don't have to go through this."

When I was able to look at him again, the horrible fear was back in his eyes and I realized that he must have hidden it the whole time while we were talking. For me. He tried to act normal for me. _Who_ _'_ _s the stronger one now?_ "Yes, I have to." I said. "I can't take this anymore. Not knowing… not knowing is torture."

"I understand." Gus said, gently pushing me back into the cushions and smoothed blankets while he talked. "Honestly, I can imagine how bad this is for you, but we're all here for you, Shawn. We won't leave you alone during all of this." He put the covers over me. "Sleep. That's enough for today."

As soon as I was positioned horizontally I found that I couldn't argue anymore. My eyelids grew very heavy. I closed them, listening to Gus' soothing voice.

"We're here tomorrow. Every day. None of us will give up on you." A long pause. "I'm so glad that you're alive, buddy."

* * *

 **... Soo, I can't wait to know what you think! :)**

 **P.S.: I threw in that bit about Dr. Martin for the attentive AgentMorganB-006. ;) Yes, she is supposed to come off that way, haha.**

 **P.S.S.: The next chapter might take a while, because I'm going to visit the US in a few days. Woohoo, my first time overseas! I'm sooo excited! I'll work on chapter 11 when I get back. Until then, keep reviewing, guys... ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey there lovely readers, I'm back from my vacation and truly had the time of my life, haha. Note to cosette141: Still so stoked that we were able to meet! :D**

 **As a reward for your patience and your awesome reviews here is a chapter that is not only a bit longer, but also gives some answers to what happened before Shawn's accident! Hooray for you, haha!**

 **I hope you enjoy it...**

* * *

Chapter 11:

The next few days I did a lot of sleeping. _Man, I'm so bored. I bet I could run a marathon once I get out of the hospital._ So far I learned about myself that I was the type of person who never stood still and I began to notice the effects this drastic change of pace had on me. I was nervous, twitchy and I never stopped begging that someone would help me walk around in my room for a bit.

When Gus or my dad came to visit they agreed to steady me while I took some careful steps on my rubbery legs. My whole body was tense and stiff, but every day I managed to walk straighter.

When Jules visited, I preferred to stay in bed, hold her small, soft hand and just listen to her talking. It wasn't that I didn't want to get up. I did. But I knew that she was too worried about me. I could read it from her brave face easier than from the others. And just like I could read her, I knew that she could read me. She knew how I hated to stay in bed, but I tried not to show it too much when she was around. I didn't want to burden her with more worries. I think she still feared deep down that I would run away again.

So we talked a lot. Mostly about me. According to Gus, I loved talking about myself. Well, now I didn't feel quite as comfortable. Of course I also talked with my father and my best friend but every time I remembered something big, I fell into a deep sleep afterwards to process and sort my new thoughts.

Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night, confused by ten thousand floating and flashing memories and I would order some more painkillers. I never told anyone about it and asked the nurses to keep quiet. Everyone in my family constantly worries about me so I at least wanted to give them the impression that I was recovering quickly. In return for more undisturbed hours of sleep I get hammering headaches in the morning.

So just imagine my confusion and surprise when I opened my eyes after yet another restless night of wild, loud pictures, just to stare into a pair of the sharpest, bluest eyes I've ever seen, looking down at me from a dead serious face. I was so startled that I flinched back, hand clasped around the emergency button.

"Easy there, Spencer. I'm not here to hurt you." he said, lifting his hands in surrender.

I stopped, squinting at him and searching for his face in my mind. _Handcuffs, guns, him and Jules. There he is._ "L-Lassie?" I asked uncertainly.

His expression turned even darker. "Lassiter." He growled. "My name in Carlton Lassiter."

Having heard about him in conversations with Gus, I knew that this was my nickname for him and that he wasn't particularly fond of it. I grinned mischievously. "Sorry, in my mind I only recollect you as Lassie. First I didn't get it, but now that I'm meeting you…" I looked up and down at him, noticing his hard look and the way his suit seemed to make him bigger, as if he was ready to defend or fight everyone who crosses his path. "Now I can see how the name fits you."

The cop named Lassie grounded his teeth and breathed through his nose. "I thought you couldn't remember." he said matter-of-factly.

"Well, my brain had a restart. It's still fuzzy, but it's clearing up. Gus is helping a lot."

Lassie nodded. "Good. That's all I wanted to know, so…" He stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in for god knows how long, watching me sleep.

"Wait… you're leaving?" I asked in bewilderment. "We haven't even talked yet."

"There isn't much to talk about." he said, stubbornly heading for the door.

"What? You can't tell me that. You sat next to me, waiting for me to wake up. You care, Lassie. I know you do." I claimed bravely.

He stopped. Then he slowly turned halfway around. "I'm sure that I don't even _like_ you very much."

"Oh yeah, then why did you came here in the first place?" I challenged.

His face stayed painfully frowny for a few more moments then he loosened up. "I did it for O'Hara, okay. She doesn't even know I'm here right now and if you had kept sleeping, I would have gone back to the station, so don't get any ideas."

I blinked, trying to follow him, but apparently I was still too far away in dreamland to understand his words. "O'Hara? Who is—"

"Juliet." he corrected with a sigh.

 _Juliet? Jules. Oh, right, Jules could be another nickname. Dad called her Juliet, too. But I'm not feeling anything when I'm thinking about Juliet. There is only Jules. O'Hara… must be her last name._ "Wait, aren't we married?" I noticed. "I thought she would be called Spencer… like me, right?"

"Technically, yes." he admitted. "But there's not a chance that I will call her that. Ever."

I raised my brows, not sure if I should be amazed or amused. "Wow, you really don't like me, huh? Why is that?" His face actually softened. Not much, but I could see that he began taking pity on me. _Hm, that sour look suited him better._

"You're a pain in the neck, waltzing into my crime scenes week after week and then somehow you manage to guess the right culprit after missing the first three or four." Lassie said. "But obviously you sweet-talked Juliet into your whole scheme and now she's grown so fond of you that she's been crying for weeks. I had to check on you so I could get an ETA on when she'll stop being so emotional. That's not her style."

 _Not_ her _style or_ yours _?_ I asked myself. "You're her partner, right?"

"I am." he said proudly.

"You're both cops?"

"Well, actually I'm head detective, but she can pull off that job pretty well, too, so yeah, we're the best detectives this city has." Lassie said.

"And I help you with your cases, right? With my… my gift." I added carefully. Gus had warned me not to talk about the psychic lie to anyone other than him, Jules or my dad, because apparently we're the only ones who knew what's really behind it, but I couldn't resist.

"Honestly, I don't know what it is that you're doing. You're messing things up and you're the most egocentric person I know, but you've got a way with words so everybody falls easily for you. But you can't fool me, Spencer."

"Didn't you just say you don't know what I'm doing?" I reminded him with a sly grin. That brought the sour look back into place.

"You haven't changed one bit." he growled.

I snorted in amusement. "Well, I guess that's a good thing, right?"

"Depends on who you ask." he replied.

I didn't care. For me that was a win. Lassie… or Lassiter or whatever, was brutally honest with me. He told me who he thought I was without sugarcoating it and now that he claimed that I haven't changed, this has to mean that Old-Me is still in there somewhere. _I'm not lost. There's hope for me and all my relationships with friends and my family and… Jules. He could tell me so much about her._ "Hey, uhm, you could tell me some things about our work… as a crime fighting team, I mean."

He laughed humorlessly. "That you can ask somebody else. You're the last person who would need self-adulation and I'm not giving you that satisfaction."

"Oh, come on, Lassie. You don't have to be ashamed. I'm sure you helped a lot solving cases." I teased. _Man, that feels good. So normal._ I didn't actually remember it, but I knew that I used to tease him until his skin color changed from red to purple. _This is what I do._

"Spencer, don't push me or I'll push one of those buttons and kill you slowly without leaving a trace. Believe me, I would do it." Lassie threatened.

 _Suddenly, there was Lassie across from me in the interrogation room. Handcuffs._ _"_ _Spencer, cut the crap!" Lassie shoving me against the wall._ _"_ _You blew the whole operation." Lassie throwing something at me._ _"_ _Spencer, you listen to me!" Lassie with his smoking gun in a prison cell._ _"_ _Are you going to help me or not?" Me slapping him. Him strangling me._ _"Dammit Spencer, I_ _'ll punch you in the face!"_

I smiled when I opened my eyes again. "I know you would." I said triumphantly. He frowned, obviously not getting what made me so happy. "Okay, then at least tell me more about Jules."

"Me?" he asked in surprise, pointing at himself. "Didn't you talk to her?"

"I did, but… mostly she tells me about myself, trying to make me remember stuff about me. And it works, she's very careful, but… it's like walking on eggshells around her. I… I don't want to make her cry." I said, blushing a bit and looking into my lap.

There was a long silence where he didn't move and I didn't dare looking up. I bet he felt just as awkward as I did, talking about feelings. Then he cleared his throat silently. "O'Hara… she's the best partner I've ever had. Loyal. Brave. She could always lure the truth out of suspects when I already screamed them down. Her methods are different, but not less effective. Sometimes I think she's too trusting. I mean, she gets Christmas cards from people she sent to prison." He snorted. "There's no one in the station who dislikes her. She's too sweet for that."

"So, she's the good cop, you're the bad cop?" I concluded.

"Most of the time, yeah. But she can be pretty badass, I tell you. She's tough as nails."

I laughed quietly, imagining that petite, blonde lady taking down heavy, tattooed bad guys. "I like that." I said dreamily.

"Yeah, I bet you do. But that's what makes us the best team." Lassie boasted.

Again the pictures filled me in. I was getting better at controlling my memories. _I saw Lassie and Juliet high-fiving. Him, dropping his paperwork on her desk. Them, arriving with drawn weapons to stop somebody, who's aiming a gun at Gus and me. Him, attaching himself to a polygraph machine and promising me that he would shoot me if I hurt Jules in any way._

"You're very protective of her." I said outright. "That's good… in your line of work, I guess. I think it's good that she has you. Thanks… for looking out for her, Lassie."

His mouth dropped open. Obviously I surprised him with that. He blinked and swallowed. "Uhm… n-no problem, that's my job."

"Still, thank you."

He nodded curtly and stood up. "I better get going now." he said. Apparently, I made him uncomfortable. Before he turned to leave he added, "Now, you have to keep looking out for her when I'm not around, understand?"

"I will." I said quickly. "I mean, I'll try my best."

Lassie nodded again and made his way towards the door.

His hand rested on the door handle when I added more quietly, "Even though I'm not sure if such a strong woman would need any help from me." Dejectedly, I realized that I wasn't any closer to figuring out what our relationship was like. Maybe I should just ask her bluntly and risk the tears. I needed to know from _her_.

"You make her happy, you know." Lassie spoke up again.

I lifted my head, surprised that he was still there. He had turned back to me and looked at me seriously.

"I really don't understand how, but you do." he continued. "Even I can tell when she had thought about you or talked with you earlier. Either she starts grinning like an idiot and her cheeks turn pink or her eyes light up like a Christmas tree and she starts giggling for no reason."

I smiled sheepishly. "She does that?"

"It's really annoying. You're nothing but a distraction for her." he added, but I couldn't quite believe his spitefulness.

"Thanks for telling me, Lassie." I said.

"Yeah, well, I… I have to get back to the station. Don't tell her that I was here, copy that?" he added, a threatening finger again pointed at me. "I've had enough of that emotional crap. It's time that things turn back to normal."

"I completely agree with you here, man." I said. He paused for a second, giving me a perplexed look, then he left.

* * *

This surprised encounter shouldn't be the last one for today.

First, Jules came by again like she did every day at least once and I stayed true to my promise not to tell her about her partner's visit. But somehow, she already knew. She asked me how he behaved himself and then we almost only talked about their partnership and what they would do for each other.

I didn't have the nerve to ask her more directly about our relationship. I tried, but she seemed so happy talking about Lassiter, noticing that I remembered more, that I didn't want to make her worry again. Her need for affection from my side radiated strongly from her. She tried to hide it, because she didn't want to push me into it, but I could tell. At the same time whenever I tried to give her some solace, I got nervous, worrying if I would do it right.

So she left, kissing my cheek again and giving me a beautiful, warm smile. And I smiled back. The desire for more burned deeply in her eyes, but I hadn't yet caught up with her grand range of feelings.

And then there was my other surprise visitor.

Knocking carefully, another woman with short blonde hair, peeked her head into my room. "Mr. Spencer, you're awake?"

"Uhm… yeah. Who are you?" I asked. She stepped further into my room. Her attire was formal. Even more so than Lassie's. _She must be from the police department,_ I guessed.

"I'm Karen Vick. I'm the Chief of the Santa Barbara Police Department and… well, your boss for the times you work with my detectives."

"Oh." I said, trying to sit up further, showing respect.

She made calming motions with her hands. "Don't stress yourself out. It's fine." she said, sitting down next to me. "I just heard you were getting better, so I decided to stop by on my break."

I raised my brows in wonder. _Wow, why would she do that for me? That's not necessarily common between boss and employee that she feels the need to visit me, right? Especially not if I'm just consulting._ I came to the conclusion that she must either like me a lot or I was valuable enough for her department that it was worth checking on me. _Maybe even both_ , I thought proudly. "You didn't need to do that."

"I wanted to." she said.

I grinned. "You must like me a lot then, right, Boss?"

A smile cracked her stern, neutral face. "First, you don't need to say 'Boss'. Just 'Chief' is enough. And second, we've know each other long enough and you're a very valuable resource for the SBPD, so of course I would come by at least once."

 _I knew it._

"Plus, all my officers keep asking about you and I'll finally be able to tell them something." she added.

"Ha, so I'm very popular around your department." I assumed proudly.

"You're impossible to ignore, let's put it that way." she said, smiling. "But to be honest…" she then continued, turning serious again. "I'm not solely here for a goodwill visit."

I knitted my brows together in suspicion. "You're not?" _What else could she want from me?_

"No." she replied with a sigh. "Now that you're awake, Mr. Spencer, and you seem to be recovering and getting your memory back, I have to remind you that we are still waiting on a statement concerning your latest case and your accident."

 _Oh. The accident._ I stared at her for a second, completely lost. Something moved in my head, remembering me that I indeed had an accident and that it was the reason for my memory loss. All the other injuries happened after that, when I escaped from the hospital and ran into bad people…

 _Snake tattoo. Dead stare face. A garage. Running, hiding beneath a car. Marco and Jason._

I recalled their names, their faces… and what they did to me after they caught me again.

"Mr. Spencer, are you okay?"

The Chief's voice brought me back from my thoughts. I blinked, looking into her concerned face. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just remembering… stuff."

"We don't have to do it now. Juliet would probably not approve of this anyway."

"No, I'm fine." I assured her quickly. "I was just surprised. No one… no one had mentioned the accident until now. I-I'm not even sure what exactly happened." She looked just as surprised as me. "I mean, I know it was a motorcycle accident, but I have not the faintest clue what had led to it."

Her face got that calm and calculating no-nonsense look that reminded me of my father. "So, you're saying you don't remember anything about the case?"

I shook my head. "Nothing yet. But maybe… you could tell me something. I tend to remember when I listen to someone talking about it."

The Chief pondered for a long moment, apparently considering if I was ready to hear what she has to say or not. "Well, I guess it's time that you learn the whole truth. Now that I started it, you wouldn't let it go until you know anyway."

I nodded. "I want to know. Please, tell me. I'm ready." Again she fell silent for a moment, seeming to think about where to start.

"It was a drug smuggling case." she began eventually. "A new drug ring called the 'Cobras' flooded the city with their substance and claimed at least two deaths by overdose. Those guys were many and they were flexible. We couldn't find out where they fabricated their drugs. But there was a member who hadn't really chosen to be involved, but rather was born into it. His name was Luis Estrada, the younger brother of gang boss, Marco."

 _Marco. I know Marco._

The Chief continued. "Your wife made that connection and found out about Luis' reluctance to be a part of the gang. She located him and got him to trust her. Luis agreed to testify against his brother for the fear of losing him to bigger sentences and he gave us one of the drug gang's meeting points.

But when we arrived at the scene we underestimated their manpower and there was a shootout. Luis was with us, trying to moderate between the gang and the police. When Marco realized that his brother turned against him, he fired at Juliet. Lassiter managed to push her out of the way in time, but the bullet hit Luis instead. The gang fled, Luis died at the scene and we ended up with no more leads."

I swallowed, thinking about how close Jules, the beautiful, sweet and brave Jules, came to her death. _What would I have done without her when I woke up?_ In the next moment, the Chief explained to me what I apparently did back then when I learned her brush with death.

"After the incident you insisted that you were getting in on the case. Juliet was fine, but you couldn't be dissuaded. Lassiter had warned me how impulsive and irresponsible you can get when it comes to Juliet's safety. Even more so than usual. I knew that, too. But we had nothing to go on and three people were dead. So I agreed.

You followed your own leads and tailed a member of the gang. Alone. Guster, your partner, wanted to do the right thing and inform us first. He didn't know that you were already on your way. Nobody knew about it. Then we received a call from you. You sounded excited and hurried. You had found the place where the drug shipments came in. A big warehouse full of drugs."

My mind jumped in. _Warehouse. Broken windows. Half a dozen plain, white delivery trucks. Men in dark hoodies, carrying wooden crates._

"But there were too many of them." The Chief narrated. "One of the gang spotted you and you were chased. For a short period of time you were able to hide and explain everything to us, also where we would find you. But then you started swearing and you didn't respond anymore. Not even to Juliet. The connection broke."

 _There were shots. Men yelled at each other, looking for me. I was hiding behind a dumpster. I was afraid. I heard their steps coming closer, voices growing louder. Jules, yelling into the phone._ _"_ _Hang in there, Shawn. We're coming for you, you hear me? We're coming!"_

"We split up." Chief Vick said. "The majority of the police force stormed the warehouse. Lassiter, Juliet and Guster were looking for you. When it became clear to us that Marco and his right hand man took off after you, we tried to follow you by tracking your phone, but we couldn't find you until a report of a motorcycle accident came in."

 _I run, jumping onto a black machine. My breath pumps. Zigzagging through traffic. A dark-blue car behind me, getting closer. My heart races. A crash, swiveling. An intersection, an oncoming car and a crash again._

The Chief's voice barely made it through the heavy clouds of my memories. "…followed you in their car. They pushed you off the road and you lost control over your motorcycle. Apparently, you flew over the handle bar headfirst into the guard railing."

 _More swiveling. The brakes screeching. My heart thumping. I don't know where up and down is. I fly. Pain. Blackness._

"Only the fact that you were wearing a helmet saved you from dying right at the side of the road."

She spoke again and my memory faded. I concentrated back on her and realized that she, too, was lost in her own thoughts. Her eyes got a far-away look, the frown on her face made her look like she was absolutely horrified by the things she saw in her own mind. _Yeah, I know what that feels like,_ I thought.

"You were unconscious when we found you." She continued eventually, clearing her throat and shaking the images away. "Juliet and Guster rode with you to the hospital. Lassiter and his team chased Marco and his accomplice, but they vanished into thin air. And you… you didn't wake up for a disturbingly long time." the Chief said, concern edging in her voice that brought out the soft side that I knew she had.

"But I did wake up." I simply said only to get her to say more.

"You did. And while we were trying to track you down after you ran away from the hospital, we even found the two criminals…"

She stopped again; apparently to uncomfortable to say what she has to say next. But I understood. "And now you need my statement to bring them to trial." I concluded for her.

Chief Vick nodded curtly. "We don't need it right _now_." She stressed. "Just at any time you feel comfortable with… in the next few weeks, maybe? It's just that we didn't know when…" she paused. " _If_ you actually would recover, so… it's just a reminder, you know?"

I stared at her for a very long time, not saying a word. Her narration began to sink in. She respected the silence and waited. A lot of things fell into place now. Not everything, but I understood the bigger picture. "I remember." I finally said.

It was quiet again. "That's good, Shawn." The Chief said softly. "Then we can assure that the gang will be locked away and never hurt anyone ever again."

 _Hurt. They almost hurt Jules. Marco almost killed Jules. My wife. I remember the rage I felt towards the man who fired the shot. She said it'_ _s her job_ _'s hazard, that she is fine. But I insist to take revenge. Nobody will hurt my Jules. I couldn't think clearly._

"I remember." I repeated again. Finally, I got a sense just how much Jules meant to me. There clearly was attraction from the moment I opened my eyes and from the way I always seemed to remember her, the warmness that I always associated with her name. I knew that there was love. For the whole time when I blacked out and woke up again, she was the constant. I couldn't forget her. But it all was vague and shallow. Now I thought I felt something concrete.

"I-I was stupid." I stuttered. "The way I acted was stupid. You warned me, but I ignored you. It's my fault that the accident happened. That I can't remember anything, that Gus panics, that Jules cries. I should have listened to you. I should have been more careful." I was talking quickly now, without really noticing that the Chief was still there and could hear every word.

"Calm down, it's not all your fault." Chief Vick interrupted me. "You took a big risk, and I did, too. Juliet had been angry in the beginning, but she isn't anymore. She's aware of the risk. She also took it when she involved Luis Estrada. But often times, taking risks is part of our job. We do it to protect the city of Santa Barbara."

Her speech should probably make me feel better. Well, it worked a little bit, but I still felt horrible for scaring Jules so much. And I kept scaring and worrying her by escaping from hospital, vanishing from the face of earth and then returning with far more injuries that I originally had. "Thanks for telling me everything, Chief." I said hurriedly. "But if there's nothing else I have to know, can you please get Jules? I want… I _need_ to apologize to her."

"Of course, Mr. Spencer. She's probably already on her way over, but I'll call her as soon as I leave the hospital." Chief Vick promised.

* * *

 **Yay, who's ready for some Shules!? ;) I know I am!**

 **I think there will be about two more chapters after that. Thanks for supporting this story and as always keep doing so and leave a review below! :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey, here's the next chapter! They're getting longer and longer, isn't that great! ;)**

 **This one goes out to all the die-hard Shules fans! ...And also to my lovely reviewers and followers! Thank you so much for your support!**

* * *

Chapter 12:

The door clicked shut softly. I stirred.

 _Did I really just fall asleep again?_

I yawned, stretching my limbs… and flinched when the stretching hurt my lower ribs. In a flash she was by my side. I knew that it was her even before she started talking, recognizing her hands as she placed them over the sore spot on my abdomen.

"Shh, easy, Shawn." Soothingly, Jules stroked my skin. "Sorry, that I woke you." she said.

"No, that's okay." I replied, clearing my throat and pushing myself up into a somewhat comfortable sitting position. "Jules, I have to tell you something and you can't interrupt me, okay? I'm the one who needs to apologize."

She scrunched up her cute, little nose. "What? What fo… oh, sorry." she added sheepishly, realizing that she did exactly what I asked her not to do.

"The Chief was here and she explained to me what happened on the case before my accident and I realized it was my own fault." I said. "I-I should have waited for backup, I shouldn't have gone by myself. The accident wouldn't have happened, I'd still have my memories and I wouldn't have… forgotten you." I ended in a guilt-filled whisper.

"Shawn, it's okay. You don't need to—" she tried to interrupt me more vehemently again, but I wouldn't let her.

"Yes, I do." I protested fiercely, breaking free from her calming hands. "I… I feel so bad… horrible, really, that I have forgotten _everything_ about you. I didn't even know your last name or why seemingly only _I_ call you Jules. I mean, how could I completely forget all of this, when you clearly have those great feelings for me? I'm supposed to have them, too!" I threw my hands up in surrender or despair, I couldn't really tell. "I can't return them. I'm so sorry, Jules. I can't feel enough. It's frustrating, because I want to, I really do! I want to… make you… make you happy."

Silence. Heavy breathing.

I startled her. She was staring at me with wide eyes; my wild gestures had forced her to move away from me. I was shivering. I only realized when she carefully reached out again as if taming a wild animal. Her hand enclosed my trembling balled fist, putting it down into my lap. "It's okay, Shawn." she repeated, barely controlled fear in her voice. "I'm not mad at you. It's okay. Come here."

She opened her arms and I found myself collapsing into her embrace without thinking twice.

"My maiden name is not important. I'm a Spencer, now." she spoke quietly into my hair, after holding me in silence for a few minutes. "And only you call me Jules, because… because you always did. From the start I was Jules to you. I don't like anyone else to call me that. It's all yours… I'm all yours."

Her words brought tears to my eyes and I quickly blinked and sniffled to hide them. "I'm so grateful that I have you. That I _still_ have you." I tightened my grip around her waist, thinking about how she almost died a few weeks ago. "If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have found my way back. I would have believed Marco. You were my anchor to reality."

Jules let out a strangled sob that I realized was in fact a laugh. "Stop that, or we're both going to cry."

"I'm not crying." I claimed, voice cracking miserably.

"Good. Neither am I." Jules sobbed with another of those forced laughs.

We laughed and sniffled for a while longer. I held her hand in mine and she wiped her other hand over my stubbly cheek to erase all proof of tears. "I want you to tell me everything." I eventually said to her. "Every little detail about us. I don't want to forget any of it ever again."

"You won't." she said confidently. Smiling softly, she squeezed my hand and seamlessly started at the beginning. "We met in a little diner… I was on my very first sting operation with my grouchy senior partner and I wanted everything to go perfect. And then there was this oddly charming but at the same time unbelievably annoying guy who absolutely wouldn't take no for an answer…"

She told me how this annoying guy slowly but surely won her heart. How this guy – _that_ _'s me_ , I had to remind myself – always danced around her, fighting relentlessly, stubbornly for any kind of attention and never gave up even though she couldn't have made it any harder.

 _I recollect the very first glance into her perfect, ocean blue eyes, when she turns around as I approach her. My heart skips a beat._

She said there had been a lot of missed moments, bad timing, "very close talking" and an almost confession of love when she came into contact with a deadly virus.

 _A drive-in cinema and her golden hair falling in waves as she stumbles through a heartfelt speech. Standing so close to her that our lips almost touched. A satisfied, victorious smile. A roller rink and the not quite accidental brush of my hand against hers. Her big, blue eyes widened in fear as she held up her hand, finger oozing a small droplet of blood. The fear of losing her._

She explained to me what it felt like to kiss me for the first time, the thrill of hiding the relationship from our colleagues even though they already suspected and eventually how she found out the truth about me.

 _Her lips on mine in an instant. In a flash. Too quick to understand it. Too quick to react. And then another kiss, so intimate that I wanted to laugh out loud and reach for the sky. Lassie_ _'_ _s ice cold eyes, staring at me over the lie detector. The words_ _'_ _I love her_ _'_ _hanging heavily in the dead silent room._

She reminded me mercilessly how devastating it had been for her to learn that I lied to her about being psychic. But that I also suffered and had begged her to forgive me.

 _Tears and anger and a suit jacket, way too big for her delicate frame. The horrible, crushed feeling of breaking her trust, of hurting her, of losing my mind from sheer unhappiness._

And when she finally forgave me completely, there was this surprising, spur of the moment, out of the blue but at the same time earnest and truest proposal of marriage, because apparently I couldn't stand being without her ever again.

 _Building up what had been torn down. Long talks at night. Long talks that lasted_ _'_ _til morning. One morning that changed everything, when I showed her that silver ring._

I remembered thinking how warm all those memories made me feel. How they warmed me from the inside and opened my heart for her. I thought I understood now what she meant to me. I understood this kind of love. But are the memories just reminding me of how she loves me, or can I love her back? Can I love her now, as Now-Me?

I remembered Jules shaking me in panic, but her voice not quite reaching my ears. She pressed the call button when drops of sweat appeared on my forehead and my eyes glazed over. Comforting warm memories couldn't be extinguished anymore. Like an open fire that was breaking out of control, licking and sizzling and swallowing up the dead and dry ground. Warm memories turning my insides to heat. Ever rising heat.

Doctors rushed in with the fever reducing preparation. I blinked tiredly for a few times. Saw her scared face in front of me, knowing for a fact that she would always be there for me.

* * *

Boy, was she angry when I woke up. Her usual calm blue eyes were flaring up with fury. In my groggy state of awaking, I had trouble comprehending why she was angry or why she was lecturing me, but it came back as she spoke.

"Shawn, I could've lost you again! Why didn't you tell me that you had a fever for the last few nights?" she argued. "You could've told me that I was overwhelming you. Do you have any idea how scared I was?!"

Swallowing deeply to soothe my dry throat – and to buy me some time to think of a good reply – I stammered timidly, "Uhm, I… I thought—"

"No, you most definitely didn't _think._ "she cut me off. "You acted. You always do."

"I'm impulsive, Jules. You know that. I just found out." I shot back, more awake now. "But I can see what comes out of it and I'm sorry, okay? I… I didn't want you to worry. I thought if you would think I'm feeling better, you would feel better, too."

"Oh…" she sighed, exasperated, running her fingers through her waves of golden hair. "I _did_ … feel better when you constantly seemed more and more like yourself again, but what is it worth if you're hiding your pain?"

I looked down in shame when it became obvious that I disappointed her, playing with one edge of my bed sheet in silence. The fabric moved when she sat down by my side.

"Shawn, you could have told me. I could've handled it. At least then I would've known the truth." she said, calming down again.

"Of course, you hate being lied to. I'm sorry, I should have known that by now." I apologized, wanting to slam my head against the wall for my stupidity.

"No… it's fine." she said. "There's only a certain amount of times you're allowed to use your memory loss as an excuse, but it's okay for now I guess."

I smiled at that and she grinned back, both of us knowing that this argument will come up more than once in the near future. "So, how long have I been out this time?"

"You've run a fever for the rest of the day and only got better by the second half of the night. Then you slept through the morning and just woke up when your temperature settled back to normal."

"Hm, okay." I said nonchalantly. "So, what's next? You weren't finished yesterday."

Jules' brows hit her hairline. "Are you kidding me? Your fever just came down, I'm not going to overwhelm you again." she said strictly.

"Juules," I whined. "I'm feeling better. I really am, I promise."

"Shawn, no—"

"I'm going to tell you when I'm getting dizzy." I said, cutting her off. "I want this to get over with. I want to be that guy you love and I want it now!"

"You _are_ the guy I love." Jules emphasized. "Even though you just sounded like our…" Jules stopped herself abruptly. "Uhm, I mean, you-you just sounded like a five year old."

Frowning, I cocked my head to the side, watching Jules curiously. She suddenly seemed nervous and was avoiding eye contact. _Would she be a suspect instead of a cop, I_ _'_ _d say she_ _'_ _s hiding something. And was there a tremble in her voice?_ "Jules—"

"Shawn." she said at the same time, almost warningly. "Don't get into it right now. We'll have enough time for catching-up. Just let it go."

My frown intensified. "What are you talking about?"

"I know this look." she said. "That's your 'I've-got-a-clue-face'."

"Oh, so that's my psychic gift kicking in." I guessed. "Hmm, I'm sensing… I'm sensing that you're hiding something." I said in amusement, holding my hand to my head in a foolish attempt to look like a mind reader.

Jules just stared. "And that's your 'I've-got-a-clue-pose'." she said flabbergasted. "How could you know about this? Did Gus tell you?"

"No, not exactly, I guess it's still in there somewhere, but I know what you're doing, woman. You're trying to distract me. Nu-uh, not going to happen." I shook my head vehemently. "You slipped. There's something you don't want to tell me." I looked at her intensely. Expressions of fear, hurt and suspicion crossed my face all at once. "Why?"

Feeling caught in her act, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "Because…" she started and stopped instantly again. She wrung her hands. "Because, it's… it's probably too much… for you. I… I don't want you to freak out. I don't want you to panic, or worry or run away again. I… I…"

Infected by her nervousness, I touched her clenched fist to calm us both. "Jules, you're rambling. And to be honest, the way you're getting nervous is freaking me out way more than anything you could say. So, just tell me and I promise I won't panic."

Jules laughed humorlessly. "Let's see about that." she mumbled quietly and then fell silent again.

"Jules, come on. I won't run away. I'm going to stay with you no matter what."

That caused her to let out a tiny sob. "You said exactly the same thing, back when… when I was…" She took a breath. "When I was pregnant."

My tensed, nervous muscles slackened at once. "You… you w-were what?" I brought myself to whisper breathlessly.

Jules inhaled deeply again. "What I tried to say… or didn't try to say, because I was scared of how you would react… is that… we have a daughter, Shawn."

Thick, heavy silence filled the room.

I heard myself breathing, but no sound came out of my throat _. I… I have a…_ My mouth just hung down. Jules stared at me, obviously waiting for me to panic. But I wanted to prove to her that I could stay calm. _I promised_. I kept trying to form words, but my voice was gone. Eventually, Jules eyed my heart monitor, which had started to beep increasingly hectic. _Okay, so I_ was _kind of panicky._

"Shawn?" she said slowly, trying to get me to focus on her again. "I know this is a lot to ask of you, but please, don't freak out. You've been there before and everything turned out just fine."

My mouth still gaped open in sheer perplexity. I swallowed. "Wow, I have… we have…" Fragmented sentences came spluttering out. I widened my eyes in shock as a new thought hit me. "I'm a… f-f…" Still unable to form this important, responsible, big, scary word.

"Yes, you are." Jules whispered, stroking her thumb over my cheek. "A pretty damn good one."

I forced myself to look into her eyes, forced myself to think in complete sentences so it would sink in, so I would believe it. _I'_ _m a father. I have a child. A daughter. Who is she? What_ _'_ _s her name? Oh god, I forgot my daughter_ _'_ _s name! How exactly am I supposed to be a good father? How could I when I just feel like a newborn myself?_ Thoughts came and went fast. Too fast to even formulate them to questions out loud. Too fast to comprehend their importance. Or maybe I did make that realization subconsciously, because the way my breathing came, too much in, too less out, proved that I had in fact a pretty decent panic attack.

"Shawn, it's okay, breathe… Should I call the nurse?" Jules asked without bothering to wait for my reply. "I'll call the nurse." She stood up to go around my bed and reach for the call button.

"No!" I yelled out a little too harshly, grabbing her arm to keep her from moving away. She looked startled. Worried. Scared. "No, please stay." I said calmer. "They'll make you go." I'm sure I must've looked like a lost puppy to her, staring up with pleading eyes. "I don't want you to go. Please, Jules, stay with me."

"Okay." she said reassuringly, covering my hand that still held onto her arm with hers. "I'm staying." Jules said back down. Neither of us spoke, but that was a good thing. I could sort my thoughts and settle down. She didn't push me, but rather sat there quietly, stroking my hand and waiting for me to start talking.

My nervous, lost gazes at unmovable objects around the room finally settled back on her eyes. Calm, steady ocean. "H-How could you manage to… to never mention her? You hid her pretty well; it never even occurred to me that… oh, god, how could _I_ forget her?"

"Shh, don't you say that." Jules chided me. "It's true; I hid her from you at first. I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do. She is… she can be very… stormy." Jules finally settled on a word. "I didn't want to scare you. God, it was so hard to keep her waiting, to try to explain to her what happened and why she can't see you. I'm so sorry that I kept her away it was just so… so much to handle, I—"

Her composure broke and I knew it was my turn again to calm her. Back and forth. Walking on eggshells. It's so hard. So tiring. Yet so necessary that I never even thought about giving up on it. "No, I think… I think it was the right thing to do." I said. "I don't know how I would've reacted to her. Maybe she would've been scared… seeing me like this. It's good that you waited." Reassuringly, I intertwined my fingers with hers and squeezed. She looked down at our locked hands in awe and I realized that it was the first time that I did this since I woke up.

Suddenly, flooded with relief and tiredness she lied down, resting her head flush against my shoulder and her hands now both clasped around mine. She put her feet up and sighed deeply. Silence again, while I got accustomed to that new position. The warmth radiating from her body comfortingly migrated into mine. I found myself in deep relaxation despite everything I found out just moments ago. "How is she? Our… our daughter, I mean?"

I could feel her smile against my shoulder. "She's a little savage. We all took turns in watching her while you were here. Henry, Gus, even Lassiter once. The hardest part was not to lose her from their sight, because she would totally try to wander the town in search for the hospital just so she could see you."

"How old is she?" I wondered.

"Just three and a half. But as stubborn as both of us combined and her speech is way ahead of others her age. She just loves to talk. And she knows that's how she can get what she wants… just like her daddy."

I swallowed at the usage of this word. _Daddy. I'_ _m_ _her daddy._ Guilt made itself prominent again, pulsing from my brain to my heart as I realized once again that I didn't _know_ her _._ "What's… uhm… I-I…" Jules looked up to me as I stuttered, calm as one can be. "I can't remember… her name." Ashamed, I turned my head away from her, blinking away tears of sorrow.

I felt her move, propping herself up on her elbows. Her fingertips graced my scratchy jaw, sliding upwards until she fully held my head in her hands and turned me to look at her again. Lovingly she gazed into my eyes; a new, motherly kind of love. "Her name is Zoe." She smiled. "Zoe Madelaine Spencer."

 _That_ _'_ _s my mother_ _'_ _s name,_ I thought before flashes of brand new memories overcame me. _Zoe._ _"_ _Let'_ _s name her Zoe. It means_ _'_ _life_ _'_ _, isn_ _'_ _t that fitting?_ _"_ _I held a tiny, pink bundle in my arms. She cried, calming down when I spoke my first words towards my baby._ _"_ _Hey there, little peanut_ _."_ _Jules face so overwhelmed with exhaustion, joy and love._

"Oh…" I moaned, blinking myself back to reality. "She was so tiny when she was born. I remember holding her. She was light as a feather."

"Yes." Jules nodded with tears in her eyes. "She was. She came a little early and she still is rather small for her age. But thus she can wrap everyone around her little finger all the better with just a sweet smile. Zoe definitely got her charms from you."

I snorted shyly, turning slightly red. "I beg to differ." I said, looking fondly into her eyes. Now her cheeks were getting a light pink hue in return.

"See," Jules commented bashfully. "She's Daddy's girl."

Deciding not to argue with her I sank my head in thoughts. I still struggled with getting my feelings in line. There was this hint of guilt, because I forgot my own daughter. My own flesh and blood. Something that came from me. There was excitement, because, according to Jules' tales, Zoe seemed to be a joyful little human being whom I can't wait to meet. And then there was this all-consuming fear, that she would be scared of me. That she wouldn't understand why I was so different. She's just a child after all. _Would she be mad that I_ _'_ _d forgotten her? No, she_ _'_ _s still too young to be resentful, right?_

Jules cleared her throat. "Do you… uhm, do you want to meet her?"

Fear accelerated, sky-rocked. "She's here?!"

Jules nodded. "Henry took her to the hospital cafeteria for chocolate cake. We couldn't hold her back anymore. We keep telling her that you will soon be ready to see her so she tagged along for a week now, always hoping that she's allowed to come with me."

Excitement and joy took over once again, kicking fear down from its spot as the most prominent feeling. _She_ wants _to see me. She_ _'_ _s excited, so I should be excited_ , I figured. "Yeah, okay… I… I think she can come in. I want to… meet her, remember her."

"Oh, Shawn, she would be so happy. But I want _you_ to be sure." she pointed out. "Do you think you can handle her right now?"

A little disappointed I looked down, absently playing with the hem of the bed sheet again. "You think I'll scare her, don't you? I-I'm sorry, I can understand that you feel uncomfortable with me still recollecting—"

"Oh no, honey, no. I don't mean that." she interrupted me quickly, letting a loving pet name slip. "Zoe adores you. She would never turn away from you no matter what you do. Believe me, sometimes I'm a little jealous of that special bond you share. I prepared her for this meeting and she knows that you forgot a lot. I'm not sure how she will react when she actually sees you, but I'll stay here the whole time if things turn… awkward. I just want to make sure you can get through this meeting without having another fever episode."

I clenched and unclenched my fists a few times, concentrating on slowing my heart rate. _I_ can _get through this_ , I convinced myself. _I couldn_ _'_ _t stand scaring_ _…_ _my little daughter_. "I'm okay. I can do this." I eventually voiced to Jules aloud.

"Alright." Jules said softly, standing up and leaning down again to lightly peck my forehead. "I'm getting her now."

Immediately after those words I got sucked in by my own thoughts and worries. _Holy crap, I_ _'_ _m going to meet my daughter!_ _Can I really do it? Will I panic? What would the kid do when I panic? Jules said she adores me. How will a three year old react when she sees me in the hospital bed? What would she look like? So much has happened in those last few days. So many people that I_ _'_ _ve met, that I_ _'_ _ve immediately started to regrow a bond with. And the future still holds so many things. Especially the future with a child._

I never even noticed that Jules had actually left the room, not to mention how much time had passed since then. Deliberately, I breathed in and out not to panic after all and counted the seconds as I did so. _Zoe…_ _what a beautiful name for_ _my child. My child_ _…_ _I still can_ _'_ _t believe it,_ I mused.

In the end nothing could prepare me for that moment when the door burst open and reality came sprinting in without any indications of slowing down.

"Daddy, Daddy!" she yelled excitedly.

"Zoe, wait!" Jules called behind her, appearing hurriedly in the door frame. The little girl stopped abruptly and half turned to her mother. "Remember what you have to do." she reminded her.

Zoe nodded, her dark-blonde pigtails bounced with the movement of her head. Then she turned her gaze back towards me. Her eyes were attentive, curious and as blue as her mother's. Maybe just a tad deeper, sparkling with a slight hint of mischief.

Her smile was so bright as if she was ready to win over the whole world. "Hi, Daddy." she said sweetly. "I'm Zoe Spencer, you're daughter."

After the first, initial shock subdued, I was able to snort in amusement. _That sounded so rehearsed._ "Hi, Zoe." I managed to say, but after that I was blank. "Uhm… I-I'm Shawn."

She laughed and it sounded so clear, like the most charming little Christmas bell. "I know that, Daddy. You lost your mind not me, silly."

"Zoe!" Jules warned, mildly shocked about her daughter's bluntness.

Dumbfounded, I blinked my eyes once. But then I had to laugh, too. "No, it's okay. She's right; I'm silly."

Zoe snickered gleefully. "Yeah, I'm right." Confidently, she crossed her slender arms over her small chest.

The way she stood there just mesmerized me. Outwardly, the spitting image of Jules, but even more lively and joyful, like nothing could ever bring her down. She seemed self-confident and outgoing. _I wonder if she was mirroring me just as much as Jules. Could I learn from her who I am?_

I watched as Zoe started to climb onto the chair and then crawled over to my bed to sit down right in front of me. A little lost I stared at her and she stared back as if she was waiting for something. Her amazingly alert eyes taking in every line on my face. Since I didn't react in the way she obviously hoped for, she crawled even closer, laying her small arms around my neck and nuzzled to my chest.

"I missed you sooo much, Daddy." The little girl said in a small voice, suddenly seeming so fragile and innocent that I couldn't help but hug her back.

In awe at how good it felt to hold her, I looked at Jules over Zoe's blonde head. She smiled, wiping unshed tears from the corner of her eyes. "I… I'm here now." I said quietly.

Zoe sat up swiftly, gazing at me anxiously. "I thought you would never wake up again and that Mommy would have stayed sad forever."

The fact that she worried about that at her age and even found the words to voice her concern, moved me to tears. _What a sweet little girl I have._ My _girl,_ I repeated in my mind and loved the way it sounded _._ "I wouldn't have let that happen. I'm not leaving you two. But… you know that I'm… different than before, right? I've forgotten so much."

"That's okay, Daddy." Zoe said without any concern. "I can tell you it all. I _never_ forget anything!" she stressed, grinning proudly.

"That's true, actually." Jules chimed in. "Another thing in which she is just like you."

I smiled at Zoe. "Wow, you really are something special, huh?" The way her face lit up absolutely made my day. She appeared to be so genuinely happy about something _I_ said that I just knew that we would get along splendidly.

And after that, it immediately started. Jules didn't lie; Zoe really could talk a blue streak. She excitedly told me about every aspect of her whole life.

In the smallest details!

My mind didn't even have the time to conjure up the fitting pictures to her endless story. Sometimes there were images, but I wasn't sure anymore if those were _my_ memories or _her_ detailed words, creating those pictures in my head.

However, I couldn't stop listening. And she didn't get tired narrating.

She made me laugh. Jules joined us on the other side of the bed, reaching for my hand and watched lovingly as Zoe excessively referred about her last visit to the police station, her friends from playschool, Grandpa Henry, Uncle Gus, Uncle Lassie and just everything else. No matter how insignificant it might seem to a stranger. It meant the world to her.

And now it mattered to me, too. If it really was true, that I won't forget anything from now on, then I had a lot to process. I didn't want Zoe to stop talking, but my eyes grew heavier by the second. Jules noticed and softly laid a hand on Zoe's shoulder in the middle of her monologue.

"Sweetie, I think it's time for us to go back home again."

"No, Mommy, I'm not finished yet!" she protested instantly and started to pout.

"I know, baby, but Daddy needs some time to rest." Jules explained patiently.

"Why can't Daddy come with us? He's awake now." Zoe pointed out.

Jules looked apologetic, feeling bad for her little baby's disappointment so I answered for her. "I'll be back home in no time, I promise." I spoke sincerely to Zoe, wondering briefly just where home was and what it would look like. "Mommy is right, I need time to memorize the things you said to me, but if you come back next time I can repeat everything back to you."

She grinned and pointed her finger warningly at me. "Okay, Daddy. I'll test you tomorrow."

I laughed. "Good, I guess I'll start studying then." Zoe smiled, but then continued to stare at me again without saying a word. I figured that she was waiting for something again. Some small, random cue that used to be normal between us, but that I couldn't remember anymore. When her staring remained and even Jules furrowed her brows, I asked her softly, "What is it, Zoe?"

Zoe didn't take her eyes off of me when she seriously said, "Now you have to say 'Bye and I love you, Peanut.'"

I swallowed, overwhelmed by the level of care and understanding from a small child. Then I said – and I really hope that it didn't sound stilted – "I love you, Peanut. See you soon."

Zoe smiled in relief, flinging her arms around my neck once again. "I love you, too, Daddy."

My heart pounded wildly and my head was full of memories from past moments when we exchanged those exact sentences. That little girl's love bloomed in my heart and left me happier than I ever was since I woke up.

Zoe jumped down from the bed and Jules brought her outside where Henry was waiting. She and her grandpa waved at me from the door and I waved back.

My wife came back once more. "You were so right." I said to her with new confidence and hope in my voice. "She's great and beautiful and smart and cute and..." I couldn't find more adjectives. Jules laughed. "I think she can help me… _feel_ my whole life. Honestly, I think I already love that girl. And how couldn't I? She's great!" I gushed again.

Jules came closer, stroking down my arms. "You see. Everything will work out fine. No one will ever let you down. We're in this together."

"I know." I said, actually truly believing her words for the first time. "I'm so glad that I have you. You and Zoe. And Gus and my dad. And even Lassie and Chief Vick."

Jules smiled happily, kissing my temple. "You should go to sleep now. Zoe _really_ talked your ears off." We both grinned. "Tomorrow when you wake up, I'll be here."

"I'm already looking forward to that." I smiled in content, carefully raising her hand and kissing the back of it gently. Right above her wedding band. Jules looked like she was about to attack me with a crushing hug, showering me with all the love she still held back.

Once she left I tried to fall asleep, but I couldn't out of pure excitement for the future.

* * *

 **Haha, didn't see that coming, huh? ;) Seriously though, what do you think of Zoe? Please, let me know in your reviews!**

 **Next chapter will be the last. I'm so greatful for each and everyone of you who followed this story 'til the end! :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**That's it folks, the last chapter!**

 **I'm so, so thankful for all of your nice reviews, comments, follows and for every single one who read this story! :D This is my longest story so far and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!**

 **Also thank you a million times cosette141 for proofreading and for all of your clever suggestions and encouragements! None of this would have been possible without you! :D**

 **For the last one there's an extra amount of Shules fluffiness towards the end, still T rating though ;)**

 **Enjoy...**

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Chapter 13:

It had almost been two months since my rebirth.

Since waking up disoriented, alone and scared of everyone around me. Since running away, trusting the wrong people and then finally coming to peace with my situation, boldly embracing who I am.

And I've met all these kind, loyal individuals who stand beside me now, who've helped me along the way. I've gotten to know what made them tick and I also found out whom I could tease until the point that it truly upsets them. My father, for instance. There's a lot of emotion hidden behind the stern demeanor. A lot of care, pride and love. I've learned to read his hidden cues, learned how to tread around him. _He'_ _s my grumpy papa bear._

There's Gus. Fine, quirky, loyal Gus. The guy with whom I can argue for hours about things that make very little sense to us and even less sense to others. There is this secret code… a language between us that no one else understands. Gus, who would do anything for me and for whom I would fight 'til the end. _Man, I love that guy._

I've met everyone at the police station. Lassie, Chief Vick and all the others. Good guys, smart guys… oh, and girls, of course. Many of them respect me, some of them laugh at me, but everyone is curious to see me crack the next case that I will inevitably steal away from Lassie sooner or later. _I can_ _'_ _t wait either._

And then there is my very own little family. Zoe was hyper when I first set foot into my home, babbling nonstop as she gave me a tour through the house filled with smells and sights and memories. In return, she also hung on every word I said even though very often I didn't know what I'm talking about. _She loves me unconditionally._

Finally, there's Jules. _My sweet, lovely Jules._

I worshipped everything she did, though she made me question my sanity. I loved everything about her. The way she looked in the mornings, the way she handled Zoe, the way her face scrunched up in concentration when she was sitting on her desk in the police station, thinking hard about a case. I loved her. Period.

But somehow it remained to be challenging around her. More than with anyone else I wanted to mend my connection to her. I wanted it too much. Her feelings ran deeper than others, and they were more complicated, delicate and unique. It was harder to figure out every nuance of her. Like we just had our very first date and then jumped directly into the everyday life of a happily married couple.

We longed for normality. For a touch, which neither she nor I questioned. First it was too fast then it was too slow. When I approached her, Jules was more than happy but then in the next moment she retreated, asking herself if it was real or if I tried to evoke a feeling which wouldn't come naturally. When she approached me, I wanted to all but give myself up to her, but then I was scared that I would do something wrong or that she just longed for my 'old' self.

It was madness.

Gus shook his head at us. He said he wouldn't have thought that he had to endure this back and forth again. Jules and I were crazy about each other, but too scared to just let go, jump of this cliff built from our shared memories and trust that we would land softly. Too scared that only a small difference in our daily routine could tear us apart.

We didn't want to lose each other, not realizing that we were the only ones standing in our way.

Today was one day after Christmas. I was settled in my life. I no longer called it my 'new' life, because I lived in the moment and the moment was good.

Everyone gathered at our place for Christmas night, gifts were given, kisses and hugs were exchanged, a bolt of lightning named Zoe dashed all around the living room and everyone was happy. The 'Cobras' case was closed as soon as I turned in my testimony and Marco and Jason would spend the next years behind bars. Starting with the new year, I would get reassigned for police cases after I had proven that my psychic gift was still going strong during a few small private jobs I handled with Gus. Jules was proud. My father and Chief Vick were proud. Lassie was miffed that peace and quiet would soon be over.

The day after tomorrow marks my and Jules' anniversary, which brought me to my current situation; searching through her stuff in order to find out a clue what she might expect from me as a gift.

It was late at night. Zoe was sound asleep next door and Jules went to the station for a few hours to finish some paperwork before the year comes to an end. I was alone, facing my secret worries and fears, which stayed hidden as long as I was under everyone's watchful gaze.

The sad truth was that I struggled with even the smallest things. For example, finding the perfect anniversary gift for Jules. I needed something that says 'I'm eternally grateful for all the years we spent together and for all the years to come – regardless if I remember all of it or not'. I wanted it to be unique, special… like her and like our love, which should've returned to us weeks ago, but something still didn't _feel_ right. Something was missing; something I _needed_ to find.

So I sat there in our bedroom, knee-deep in Jules' life. Her clothes, jewelry and other personal belongings scattered around me and I was so pathetically close to tears.

I _knew_ who Juliet Spencer was. I knew what she liked and what she disliked. What scared her and what made her laugh. Who was a friend to her and who she couldn't stand. Which pet names I'm allowed to give her and which she thought were cheesy. I knew everything about my wife, but I couldn't _feel_ her inside of me. Like a second heart, which should be there, beating in unison with mine and telling me what would be perfect. Like a connection we couldn't tie until now.

I felt extremely insecure. This wasn't like finding her a Christmas gift; something holiday themed would suffice at least. This was our anniversary, a celebration of the day we bound our love, our lives. It had to be something special… something that defines us.

 _Maybe I already gave her something similar to what I have in mind. Maybe there are some bad memories attached to something I picked out. There could be something that I overlooked, that I haven_ _'_ _t remembered yet!_

I heard my heart pounding in my ears, felt tears on my face and noticed how bad my hands were shaking as I searched through her stuff, realizing how pathetic this was for a man who's been married for four years. That I had to do this to find out what my wife wants.

"Shawn?"

I froze abruptly. I didn't hear her come in. She spoke my name quietly and full of uncertainty. Like a question: _'_ _Shawn? Is it really you?_ _'_ I couldn't answer for her. Around her, I questioned myself.

I heard her closing the bedroom door, taking a few steps towards me. Then she stopped and I could hear her trembling breaths. I was kneeling on the ground in front of her wardrobe, my back towards her. I felt caught.

 _Oh, god,_ _what would she think of me now? I looked through her private belongings like a pervert. She will be so mad._

I flinched when she touched my back and carefully asked: "Shawn, are you okay?"

I didn't answer, not trusting my voice to hide the grueling guilt I felt. But she didn't give up that easily. I knew that. She knelt down beside me and I quickly turned my face away from her. She sucked in a startled breath.

 _Too late. She had already seen it._

"Oh my god, Shawn, you're crying. Honey, tell me what's wrong. Please."

My hands trembled when I tried with gestures to start a sentence, but no sound came from my throat. She covered my shivering hands with her smaller hand, soothing me.

I felt warmness. _Again_.

But that wasn't enough for me anymore. I wanted to light a fire and didn't know how.

"Nothing." I finally forced out. "It's just… stupid, Jules."

"Shawn Spencer, don't you _dare_ doing that!" Jules said unrelentingly. "Don't act like you didn't have any feelings at all. Something is bothering you and I want to know what it is."

"But it's just like you said. I don't have any feelings." I mumbled quietly, but she caught it anyway. Jules grabbed my hands, pulled me up to my feet and led me over to our bed. She pushed me into a sitting position and sat down right beside me. One hand clutching mine, the other one stroking soothingly through my dark hair.

"Shawn… it's me, Jules." she said patiently. "I love you and I know that you love me. Otherwise you wouldn't be here with me and Zoe. Why are you having such a hard time believing this? You can talk to me, you can tell me everything. All your worries. I won't judge you. I won't leave you." She waited for a moment while I just stared sadly into my lap. "Talk to me." she demanded softly.

"I… I-I don't know…where to start." I stuttered meekly. "I… it all happens too slowly… don't you think?"

"What happens too slowly?" Jules questioned.

" _Us._ _"_ I pointed out sharply, not daring to look at her in shame. "Everything turned out fine, just as you said. I love the job that I have; I love the relationship I share with Gus, Zoe, even with my dad. But…" From then on I stopped breathing and just blurted out every insecure thought that occurred to me and only grew and grew to add up to my pile of pitiful worries.

"W-Why in the world doesn't our relationship work this easily? Why… Why can't I feel you? Why don't I just _know_ what the perfect gift for our anniversary would be? Why is it s-so hard for me… to be really… intimate with you? I feel so ready for you, I-I want this, I want us… but it doesn't work! Can't you just tell me… why?!"

I cried hard. Sobs bubbled up ceaselessly and my breath hitched in my throat. She pulled me close to her, hugging me tightly in her arms and rocking me like a child.

"Shh, shh. It's okay." she whispered, kissing my head.

I pressed my wet face against her shoulder, damping her clothes and breathing in her calming scent. I loved her scent. I loved her. But I haven't told her that into her face since the accident. "Everything is empty… without you. You're there and still… I'm missing you. I-I… just… don't get it." I sobbed uncontrollably.

Jules didn't say anything for a very long time. I could tell she was fighting to hold back her own tears. Suddenly, she took my face between her hands, forcing me to look into her eyes.

"Kiss me, Shawn." she said as if that would hold the answer to all of my questions.

"What?" I said puzzled.

"Kiss me." she repeated. "Not… not like you have been. Kiss me without thinking about it. You talk about feelings, Shawn, but you're trying to understand them. You look for them in your head. You know what I think?" she said with a small, confident smile. "Feelings aren't in your head. They never were. They're in your heart. Don't be afraid to think with your heart. You can do it. It never got damaged."

I stared at her in awe. _Holy crap, what a smart and beautiful woman. I am such an idiot._ _It makes perfect sense. What she said... it sounds right. Why couldn_ _'_ _t I think of that?_

"You're thinking again." she warned. "I can see it in your face."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You know so much about me." I whispered. "I don't know—"

"Stop beating yourself up! You know everything about me, too." she interrupted me boldly.

"Jules… I don't know how." I tried to reason with her. "I don't know if I do it right, maybe—"

"Dammit, Shawn!" She looked like she was about to slap me for my stupidity. "Stop thinking! Just do it!"

 _Just do it_ _…_ _that_ _'_ _s easier said than done. Then again,_ _I do everything else just like that,_ I realized. _I just listen to my instincts. I'm good at that. Will the same work with Jules?_

"Shawn…" she whispered again, desperately wanting me to let go… to jump. "I don't need any gift. I just need you."

 _And I need you._ That was the very last thing I thought before I kissed her.

I closed my eyes. Immediately Jules' hands came up to my cheeks. She loosened up, melting into my kiss. Her lips caressed me as she moved them over mine. Smooth, soft lips, which tasted of cherries, mingling with my own taste of salty tears. It was a perfect fit, however. We fused together, moving in perfect concurrence like we never did anything else before. My right hand reached for the back of her head, pulling her in. My left hand hugged her waist delicately.

I felt her beneath my fingertips. I felt her on my lips as she burned herself into me. I felt her breathing against my skin, could hear the sounds our kisses made. I felt her heartbeat, beating in unison with mine. I felt her inside of me…

 _Wait_ _… I…_ _I felt her_ inside _of me!_

Overwhelmed with emotions, I had to break the kiss. We stared at each other, breathing heavily. I stroked a lose strand of hair behind her ear. "Jules…" I whispered. I couldn't say more. I crashed together with her again. I had to. It _felt_ so good.

I inhaled her, holding my breath while I kissed her. Stronger, deeper. She moaned quietly, wrapping her arms around my body. I pulled her up, closer to me so she had to straddle me on the bed. I let my hands wander. Inhaled, came back. Jules opened her mouth, deepening the kiss even more, nibbling at my lower lip. I sucked at her lip, sucked her into me. Even if I wanted to think right now, I wouldn't be able to. This feeling was so mind-blowing.

I wasn't that close… that connected to her since the accident happened and I suddenly felt how badly my body missed hers. I turned us around and pushed her back onto the mattress before I even realized what I was doing. It just happened. Like she said. I hovered above her, hands still entwined tightly, still connected through a never-ending kiss. My lungs burned for air. I parted from her, wheezing her name into her face before I buried myself into her neck. "Jules… my sweet Jules."

"Don't stop, Shawn. Please, don't stop." she whispered softly, tears in her eyes.

She let her swollen lips wander along my cheek until she reached my ear. I kissed the crook of her neck simultaneously, feeling so hot that my vision blurred. Suddenly, there was this fire I missed. A thought occurred to me, clear as day. "Jules…" I panted. "How would you like a trip to Vancouver? As an anniversary gift, I mean. It's where we had our first mutual kiss, right?"

She looked at me through the passionate mist over her eyes. "Oh, Shawn…" she said, stroking my rough cheek. "That would be perfect."

"Really?" I asked, wondering how I came to that conclusion so effortlessly; like what happened right in this moment. I wanted her so much, needed her closeness, her love.

"Yes. Absolutely perfect." She swallowed, locking my face between her hands again. "Please, Shawn, don't stop now." she begged once more.

She kissed me longingly and I granted her what she wanted. What I needed.

When we lay together afterwards, exhausted, entangled and happy, the fire inside of me turned back to pleasant warmness. But it was different this time. I knew that she was there. Inside of me.

Just like she had been all along.

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 **The End! :)  
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 **Again, thank you all for your continuing support! Writing this was so much fun and every review pushed me to make this story even better.**

 **Until next time, lovely readers! :)**

 **Oh, just a side note: I'm think I'm going to write a little something for The Big Bang Theory next. If you like this show, too, maybe you could visit me over there... I'd love to hear from you! ;)**


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